Fox Point
by MaveriKat
Summary: Those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it but so are those who cannot let the past go. With the rise of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, one vixen is going to be uprooted from what she knew to live and breath the tenants of the ZPD: Trust, Integrity, and Bravery. Even if the city doesn't believe she can. Rated M for Violence, Adult Language, and Adult Situations.
1. Mammal Inclusion Initiative

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 1: Mammal Inclusion Initiative

Built along the Western coast of the Zoonited States of America was the great city-state of Zootopia. Founded and built during the, 'Roaring 20's' with architectural cues taken from the Big Apple and London to inspire awe in both inhabitants and visitors, it was often described as the city where, 'anyone can be anything'... although it was also known by the nickname of, 'that damned hippy Liberal dumping ground' by the rest of the country. Built upon the site of an ancient mammal watering-hole, today it was the jewel of modern animal civilization and envy of the rest of the world. Zootopia was a city built by animals for animals and boy, did it show! It was the current melting pot of the country, even more so than New York on the East coast had been once upon a time.

Such was thanks to how the city was specially built to accommodate the various species that made up the residents with Zootopia; the land being divvied up into specialized districts that catered to the needs of their international guests' environmental requirements. It was a miracle of modern technology that allowed for artificial climate zones amongst other things. Even when districts with opposing climate zones such as Tundratown and Sahara Square were pressed up together, they had massive walls separating them that would ventilate the air temperatures between the two environments–similar to air conditioners and space heaters–to maximize an authentic environmental effect. In the end, Zootopia was practically a series of nations within a nation: a microcosm of the world in the space of one large city.

In the center of it all was the district known as Savanna Central. The central hub of the city was the home to many residential areas and key communal buildings, including the Central Train Station that served as the primary public transport system for the entirety of the city, the Zootopia Police Department which kept the peace, the natural history museum to remember their origins so that mistakes of the past were not repeated, the tiny gated community district of Little Rodentia to protect those mammals of a far smaller stature, and most importantly for both historical importance _**and**_ for successfully running the place, was city hall. The seat of Zootopia's government was built atop the watering hole that became the founding site of the City-State itself; the lake still present within a recreational area stationed in the center of the municipal building's ground floor.

Still, while built upon their past, it was at the top floor of the government building where the course of history would change. Sitting at an expensive, intricately carved mahogany desk within his finely furnished mayoral office decorated with plaques and awards was Zootopia's Fifty-Second Mayor, Leodore Lionheart. With a pair of Zootopian banners set on flagstaffs at either side of the lion and a prominent view of the city prevalent in the wall-sized window behind him, the effect added to the feline politician's majesty. To gaze upon the leonine bureaucrat was as to get the sensation of someone having flipped the script, taking the man from being the King of the Jungle to the King of the Board Room.

The blue silk suit was cut precisely, tailored to fit his impressive frame, showing that he still maintained the strength and grace of a predator underneath the display of sophistication and political genius. A tie clasp of solid gold and a pin on his lapel from his old fraternity days at the prestigious Zootopia U's Kappa Epsilon Gamma house topped it off rather nicely.

Hell, the jacket had been cut so his massive paws could more easily grasp the tie, allowing him to maintain the appearance of not only being the city's regal mayor but that of a relaxed individual as well.

And if his attire didn't cost as much as his assistant's monthly salary, he'd eat... well... whatever the most disgusting of vegetables was! Not like he partook of that yucky green stuff all that often. He much preferred indulging in Tundratown's thriving fishing industry of the Fishtown Market or dining out at the prestigious Clark Halibut's for his dietary needs. Let the plebeian predators eat those nasty, 'Bug Burgas'! He had **real** protein to enjoy, thank you very much!

However, the proud lion's mind wasn't focused on what he was going to have for lunch–for once–but instead on the information he had at hand. The mayor of Zootopia sat hunched over his desk, positively fuming as he looked over the newspaper firmly gripped between his impressive paws. He was glaring at the information it parlayed to him, as if somehow his angry stare would make it alter what was printed there. When nothing changed, he knew it was time to take action. His right hand went to the bright red button on his desk console. There was a fritz of static as the intercom system went on. "SMELLWETHER!" he shouted.

He took his finger off the button and another crackle of static came over the line. When it cleared, a rather quiet, timid-sounding female voice came over the system. " _Y-yes, Mayor Lionheart?_ " There was a tiny squeak of surprise. " _What can I do for you?_ "

His right index finger immediately pressed down on the red button again. "Get your wooly tail up here, Smellwether! Pronto!"

The irritable feline's finger came up from the button, allowing the woman to reply, " _But Mayor Lionheart! I still haven't finish the_ —"

The lion's entire hand clenched into a fist and he firmly slammed it down on the button. "NOW, SMELLWETHER!" he roared, interrupting whatever feeble excuse she had for falling behind in her work. "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR LITTLE PROBLEMS! WE GOT A BIG ONE RIGHT HERE THAT NEEDS ADDRESSING THIS INSTANT!"

His massive paw slid off the button, revealing he'd put a crack in the plastic shell that covered the red light fixture within. Static crackled over the intercom again, a very fearful reply, " _Y-y-yuh-yes, Mayor Lionheart! B-b-buh-be right there!_ "

The man turned towards his door, glaring at it over the length of his muzzle with intense, golden-brown eyes, as if daring his secretary... er... that is... daring his, 'Assistant Mayor' to make him wait more than the proper and customary thirty second ETA. He hadn't drilled promptness into her so he would be forced to wait more than a minute, that was for **damn** certain!

Finally, just as it was about to hit thirty seconds on the clock–he had one hanging by the door at the front of his office for that very reason, mind you–the thick slab of expensive wood that served as the barrier to his office's entrance opened, swinging inwards with force. Standing in the frame was the small, heavily panting petite form of a sheep. She was barely standing at four feet in height and that was _including_ the puff of wooly head fur on her scalp. Her white wool pelt was decked in a dark blue jacket and black polka-dotted white blouse combo while her lower half was covered in an old-fashioned pale green dress that was adorned in brick red and forest green leaf patterns. She did have some taste though, having a large gold bracelet on her right wrist and a sensible gold chain necklace with a small bell, but in Lionheart's eyes, she lost a lot of points in terms of fashion thanks to the Coke bottle-thick glasses she wore that were housed in a pair of cheap tortoise-shell style plastic frames, the kind that were common in the 1970's.

She stood there, breathing heavily as she tried her darnedest to catch her breath, green eyes staring fearfully up at her boss. "Y-yes, Mayor Lionheart?" The beleaguered sheep managed to gasp out finally. "Wuh-what can I d-do for you?"

Frowning, the mayor of Zootopia drummed his fingers atop his desk in irritation. "Damn it, Smellwether! Step inside and close the door! You **know** we don't talk important business if people can eavesdrop!" Honestly, how many times did he have to yell and holler at the darn lamb before he got it through that thick, fluffy-wool skull of hers?

Letting out a little squeak of surprise, the woman of short stature turned about in place; hooved hands grasping the edge of the door and tugging tightly. She jumped back as she threw her arms forward, giving the wooden barrier enough of a push that it closed shut. Bringing her hands up to either side of her head to adjust her glasses back into place, the short sheep known as Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether–and Secretary Smellwether to her boss–quickly rushed over to the front of the leonine male's desk. "What is it, Mayor Lionheart? Is the Internal Revenue Service trying to bring you in for an audit again?"

"Worse!" The lion snapped as he threw the newspaper down atop his desk with an audible slap that caused the sheep flinch in response. "Take a look at this!" He shouted as he firmly pressed his right index finger down on the front page before he flicked it forward, sending the stack of ink-pressed papers sliding over to her.

Jumping up, Bellwether was just able to catch it in time so it wouldn't go flying past her and scatter all over the floor. Coming back down to her feet, the woman held it in her hands and took a good look. She frowned, quickly turning the paper upside down so she could actually _read_ the darn thing. "Let's see... Organization of Petroleum Exporting Camels' Embargo at an End..." she murmured as she saw the headline. "Wow! That is big news!" Hearing the growl reverberate in the man's throat, she cringed. "But... erm... I don't see how that's a bad thing, Mayor Lionheart. Oil dropping down to under fifty dollars a barrel will help the economy."

"Correct, the oil situation is not a bad thing," the lion agreed. He took a deep breath before roaring, " **BUT YOU'RE LOOKING AT THE WRONG THING!** "

The poor woman shrieked, nearly throwing the copy of the Zootopai Daily up into the air. "I... I don't understand, Mayor Lionheart!" She squeaked out as she took a step back from the desk. She held the newspaper with trembling hands, wide green eyes darting about the front, trying to look for anything of possible importance. Finally, the optical organs zoned in on a semi-opinion piece printed towards the bottom of the page. "Oh! You're talking about this little blurb about your standing in the city."

Nodding his head, the feline politician commanded her to, "Check out my Approval Rating."

Her eyes moving left to right as she quickly read the first page portion of the article, the wool-coated woman smiled brightly. "Hey! You have a seventy-nine percent approval rating! That's great, Mayor! Congratula—"

"IDIOT!" The lion snapped, interrupting his assistant trying to offer him empty accolades. He looked over the small bovidae, before more calmly querying, "Do you realize what that means, Smellwether?" Before she could answer, he continued with, "I'll tell you! It means nearly one in four animals of the voting populace do not like me! That means practically every fourth vote will go to some up and coming incumbent or... God forbid..." he shuddered. "A Republican!" 

"But the elephants are such _nice_ people," the small herbivore said in defense of the tusked members of Zootopian society. Then, after a moment of thought, she admitted, "With possibly the exception of that guy who runs the Jumbeaux Café." Jerry Jr. was a bit of a hot-headed meanie. Not that she blamed him for wanting to refuse service to predators but he really needed to have a bit more tact when he did so. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen with how blunt and coarse he was when evicting them from his business' premises! 

His eyes narrowing, the leonine politician stared down at the Assistant Mayor. "I don't care if they're nice! Statistics shows that nearly one in four of those peanut-brained peons is poised to vote against me!" He growled while internally cursing the fact that he lost the rights for Zootopia to host the Animalympics to London back in 2012. If he had locked that event down, he wouldn't be having this current problem as everyone would have still been so enthralled with the spectacles he could have brought them and been thanking **him** for it! "We have to do something about that."

Blinking her eyes once, twice, thrice, the petite sheep couldn't help but query, "But Mayor Lionheart, sir... weren't you the one who told me there are three types of lies in this world? That there are lies, damn lies, and statistics."

Nodding his head slowly, the elected leader of Zootopia replied, "I'm glad to see you're paying attention, Smellwether. However, bad publicity can still sway the rubes! If they think one-in-four won't vote for me, then they too might vote for someone else as well! It will be a snowball effect that could ruin me in an avalanche of electoral admissions for some other candidate!" He slammed both his hands down on his desk again. "We cannot let that come to pass!"

Considering that for a moment, the small woman asked, "What do you want me to do, Mayor Lionheart?" Not that she could do much about him at the moment. He was great at putting on a wonderful façade for the public but behind closed doors he was a real, 'Lionfart'.

His hands came together atop his desk. As clawed fingers entwined, the man leaned over, getting his face a bit closer to the sheep. "Smellwether," the lion said her nickname with a surprisingly somber tone. "I believe it's time I finally started pushing to make the Mammal Inclusion Initiative a reality. These stupid animals want to see that I'm all for keeping my word? Well fine!" He snapped. "I'll show them! I'll see to it that they all have the chance to make something of themselves in Zootopia! And when they do, they'll have **me** to thank for it!"

That statement made Dawn perk up considerably. On the surface, the Mammal Inclusion Initiative was an act which would provide all animals with high-ranking opportunities to ensure equality among the predator and prey citizens. However, with how she had helped design the original bill, it was a policy that would also favor members of disadvantaged groups who had historically or even currently suffered from discrimination within Zootopian culture.

Oh, not any of the predator species! God no! This would give a leg up to the much smaller herbivores, such as mice, squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits... **sheep**. A more genuine smile crossed Bellwether's face as she chimed in with, "That's an incredible idea, Mayor Lionheart! I'll go set up a Police Academy scouting drive at Bunnyburrows! I'm certain we'll find at least one of the fairer farming folk out there who wants to become a police officer! We might get a pig, a sheep, or even a rabbit!" Although it would be nice to see sheep officer besides the occasional rams that remained on the force from earlier times, it would most likely be a rabbit, considering how many of them were living in the farming community... and multiplying!

Considering that, the mayor of Zootopia nodded his head. "That sounds doable... show that prey can rise up and join their predator comrades in arms in defending the city." He leaned back into his leather chair, chuckling in relief. "So how long should it take to train an officer?"

The woman considered that for a moment. "Let's see... after classes in criminal law, physical fitness, firearms, first aid, emergency vehicle operations, defensive tactics, and report writing..." she murmured to herself almost inaudibly, as she did some mental math. When the lamb had an answer, she raised her head and replied, "On average, it takes around twenty-one weeks to train an officer of the law in Zootopia. That's a little over five months."

Mayor Lionheart stared at the woman with a gaze that made Dawn feel incredibly small–even more so than she really was. "Five... **months**?" He asked with a sharp tone.

Cringing, the poor sheep knew he wasn't going to like hearing this. "And even then, there's still a cool-down period to allow the trainees to decompress before graduation and assignment to active duty so it's really more along the line of six months."

"SIX MONTHS!?" the leonine politician snapped. "Oh no! No, no, no, no, **NO!** " He roared out that last bit of denial. "That won't do, that simply won't do! The elections are in eight! I can't just throw some bit of fluff out there for a measly two months in advance! I need that fair citizen to gain some reputation! _Good_ reputation! A prey species that will do right by this city and make the people say, 'Gee! Mayor Lionheart sure is a swell guy, making sure people like me can go somewhere in this city and be something! I better make sure he gets my vote and keep the status quo'!" He pushed his seat back and stood up. "I can't do that if some stupid... I don't know... some dumb bunny doesn't have enough time to establish themselves!"

Despite how she felt, Bellwether managed to keep from rolling her eyes. It wouldn't do to antagonize the man when he was in one of his moods. After all, he had a lot of sharp teeth. "Then what do you suggest, Mayor Lionheart? You can't just pick someone off the street, pin a badge on them, and throw them back out on the beat! They need proper training!"

The feline was silent for a moment, settling for crossing his arms over his chest and thinking things over. The frown on his face said a lot more than words did at the moment. A growl was rumbling within his chest as his eyes followed the motion of the hand of his clock that counted down the seconds. Finally, he spoke up. "Bellwether," he began firmly, startling the woman as he used her proper name for once. "You go handle that scouting drive at Bunnyburrows like you suggested, see if we can find any volunteers amongst the prey population. It's still a good backup plan to build up some goodwill that I can cash in later. For the moment, however..." he trailed off, chuckling.

The female bovidae blinked her bright green eyes once, twice, thrice. "However...?" she queried with a soft tone, wanting to know where the mayor was going with this.

A smile soon spread across the lion's muzzle, showing off his meticulous, pearly white fangs. "We outsource. We make some inquiries and find an already established officer from a minority or oppressed background and get them transferred. We get to immediately show that I offer a better chance to animals of all walks of life and then we get to compound it later with Zootopia's own homegrown officer. A win-win all around!"

Bellwether's smile faltered slightly. "Where do you plan to find one?"

Letting his arms drop to his sides, the feline bureaucrat told his assistant, "Cancel my afternoon appointments, Smellwether!" He walked around her and made his way to the door, telling her, "I first need to go talk to a few of the board members of the city council to get their approval!" And by that he certainly meant cashing in the favors they owed him. "Then, once I have the permission required to get the Mammal Inclusion Initiative instituted, I need to go meet with our fine Chief of Police and make arrangements with him."

Needless to say, this surprised the petite sheep. She'd never seen Mayor Lionheart... well... actually _**do**_ his own work! "I... I see..." she murmured, not sure what to make of this turn of events. It was so much easier to get her own ends taken care of when the big cat didn't have an active hand in things but it had been a long time since she could actually take things easy–or at the very least _slightly_ easier. So taking a deep breath, the woman straightened herself up and offered, "Anything else I should know?" She would need to, in case he ended up making a mess of things that she needed to fix.

His hand on the door handle, the lion stopped in his tracks. "As a matter of fact, yes." He turned to look over his right shoulder and snapped, "Find out what's taking so long for my subscription to the Spider-Ham comics to come in! **I NEED MY SPIDER-HAM PICTURES!** " he roared aloud.

The sheep squeaked as she jumped back at the roar. She never understood what the mayor's fascination with those Spider-Ham comics was about but he sure seemed to have a lot of memorabilia... particularly photographs from the movies that Pony Entertainment put out.

Watching as the leonine asshole walked out of the office, Dawn couldn't help but become a little worried. Where would he find an officer? It wasn't like the odds of finding one willing to pick up everything they knew and leave for Zootopia, even if only for a temporary position, would be in their favor...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While the crescent moon hung high in the sky and the stars twinkled around it, a vulpine woman piloted a police boat along the water. The vixen was clad in a pelt of brownish-orange fur, with chocolate brown eyes–a mole under her left one–and waist-length navy blue hair tied in a braid at her shoulder level, a pair of triangular ears standing tall above the mass of dark cerulean locks, with a lone gold loop earring on her left ear. She was feminine but physically fit; possessing an athletic yet decidedly curvaceous hourglass build. Her outfit was comprised of a dark blue tube-top with matching dark miniskirt and choker which a gold police badge hung from along with a worn light brown leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, which was complimented by how her hands were adorned in yellow gloves... one of which was grasping tightly onto the steering wheel of the boat. And finally, her feet were clad in long brown leather boots with a dual set of side buckles on each one; her right foot pressing down on the boat's acceleration pedal, forcing the motor in the back to go full tilt.

It was a late at night but it was only then the woman had time to work on her personal investigation. She was travelling along the Seine River, the most important commercial waterway within the Paris Basin in Northern France, which flowed through the capital city of Paris and out to the country's coastline into the English Channel. It was here the remains of Cyrille Le Paradox's mobile air fortress came crashing down in a mass of wreckage after a madman caused a rip in the fabric of time and space he created destabilized, tearing the grandiose blimp apart like so much cheap paper tissue.

And it was here that one Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox's life had changed.

With the end of the malicious memphite's attempts to alter history by falsifying both riches and documents to make himself royalty as well as destroy her boyfriend Sly's legacy, the red fox had thrown herself into her work as an international police officer. She spent her time busting criminals at a record pace, waging a one-woman-war on crime to the point where street crime in Paris dropped a sheer ninety-two percent in three weeks and stayed there! She was being praised by her fellow officers and even her boss and former mentor James Barkley was talking of putting her in command of her department by bumping her rank up from Inspector to Superintendent!

However, as much as the vixen appreciated the Commissioner's sentiments, the policewoman knew she would never accept it if the badger made the offer. Yes, the vulpine woman was coming down hard on the city's criminal element and quite successfully too... but in truth, that was because she was trying to cope with her situation more than anything else. It had already been a solid two months since the time travel incident and one former Interpol Sargent and self-proclaimed master thief Sylvester "Sly" Cooper was still missing in action. But she wasn't about to give up. He had to have survived the air fortress coming apart! He was Sly Cooper for crying out loud! There was no way she could have lost the man she loved!

 _Not that I could even get the words out the last time I saw him_ , the vulpine woman thought bitterly. She knew he understood what she wanted to say but it wasn't enough. All that time they'd been arguing and when the Inspector had a chance to apologize and tell him she loved him, she couldn't spit out the damn words to save her life! All she could do was watch from the ground while Le Paradox's blimp slowly began to descend as it was engulfed in flames before the aircraft came apart at the seams. It was a wondrous sight that would have made any physicist scream at the impossibility of a simultaneous explosion and implosion–God knows Bentley sure did–but that was what she witnessed. The exterior of the air ship blasted apart while an the unstable spatial tear in its interior clamped everything down within like a black hole collapsing, forces of both inward and outward propulsion working in concert as one.

It was a long shot, but Carmelita had seen him survive such circumstances before. Like the time he'd not only managed to survive the collapsing sky fortresses of the Late Arpeggio but had done so while fighting the frame of Clockwerk that had been possessed by the crazed psyche of that backstabbing tigress, Neyla by jumping from piece of wreckage to piece of wreckage while in a free-fall! That was MUCH worse in the policewoman's opinion; it only made sense he should have survived coming down from Le Paradox's blimp when he didn't have to fight for his life atop of everything else! That was why she hadn't given up, even when Commissioner Barkley closed the case. It wasn't over until she had proof of what happened to Sly...

One way or the other.

Eventually, the Interpol Inspector came across a sight of wreckage in the water; the materials were pressed up along one of the stone support struts of Pont Neuf, the oldest standing bridge that crossed over the Seine River. Taking her foot off the accelerator, she allowed the motor to die down, the police boat coming to a drift. As her aquatic transport came closer to the debris, the vulpine woman pulled forth a flashlight and flipped the switch on it, shining light over the wreckage and illuminating it. She took in the visage of steel infrastructure beams that had been fused together and warped from intense heat, a pair of wall paneling segments that were twisted and mangled as well as being discolored from a large dose of ionization, and one large nut missing its bolt–one that she could have fit her arm through at that!

"Definitely blimp wreckage," she murmured as she moved her wrist, making the shadows the flashlight cast shift and expose other parts of the mess. The vixen blinked her eyes as she caught the sight of movement atop the seared beams and raised her flashlight higher. She frowned a little bit as she realized it was just a small bit of paper... only to soon smirk as she **also** caught sight of a familiar sparkling of orange lights upon it. While Sly referred to such phenomena as the, 'Stealth Aura'–as he saw blue sparkles whenever there was an opportunity to be sneaky–Miss Fox preferred to think of it as an, 'Inspector's Intuition'. The bright twinkle of orange illumination often helped her pick up on clues that even her fellow officers might miss.

 _God knows I would have dismissed it otherwise_ , the vixen admitted silently to herself. When her boat came close enough, the Hispanic vulpine reached out for the scrap of paper and took hold with her right hand. She then brought it before her, letting the flashlight in her left hand shine on it. The policewoman looked it over for a moment, only to go stock-still in shock; her heart thundering in her chest as her throat tightened up, silencing the cry the red fox anthro wanted to give off. She looked over the photograph and felt as if she were going to be sick. Despite the worn edges, the discoloration, the tears, the stains, and even the burns... there was no denying what she was looking at.

This was a photograph of her and Sly: the raccoon giving her a kiss on the cheek as she looked utterly surprised while holding the rose he'd given her, the two of them near a window to show off the Eiffel Tower in the background. A memento from happier times when they had their first date; a picture taken during a spring evening with her decked up for a ball of all things! She had told Cooper how much she enjoyed formal dancing and he went ahead and gotten them invited to a fancy Ballroom Party. But he didn't let her go in her favored black dress, oh no! The sneaky rascal had bought her a golden bodice-style ball gown with shoulder-straps, a wide-hemmed floor-length skirt made of triangular panels, a multiple-layered white petticoat with a scalloped edging on the hemline, and a matching pair of elbow length gloves.

The raccoon said he had wanted her to feel like the princess he saw her as...

The flashlight fell from now nerveless fingers and rolled onto the floor of the boat. The vixen felt as though a ball of lead had dropped into her stomach, a wave of nausea threatening to overcome her. She brought her left hand to the photo as well now, holding onto it in tightly with both hands, afraid to lose the faded photograph. "Sly..." she whispered his name. The only thing she could manage to say. The Inspector's mind was running a mile a minute and she realized that this had to have been on her raccoon at the time of the blimp's destruction. There was no way he would have let go of this memento, no way he'd willingly lose this precious memory...

...Unless he wasn't able to anymore. Not unless he was...

Was...

Clenching her eyes shut, the woman tried to banish such dark and traitorous thoughts from her mind. The vulpine woman brought the photo to her chest and held it there, keeping it close as if it were some sort of lifeline. Carmelita lowered her head, unable to fight the immense guilt she felt as sat there. The last couple of days they were together had been nothing but fighting and her being angry at him. Even as they worked together across time to set things right, the red fox chose to hold a grudge and make things difficult for him almost on principle. It wasn't until the very end that she had a chance to apologize for how she'd been treating him, to tell Sly just how much she loved him, how he was her everything... and she failed.

And now it appeared she'd never get the chance again.

Inspector Fox was glad that she was in the dark. No one would see her break down, the woman unable to fight the tears she could feel streaming down her face as she silently wept.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Down in Savanna Central, the most temperate district of Zootopia, there lay the City-State's primary police department of Precinct One. Stationed atop the original quarry where their mammalian ancestors first dug into the earth to gather the resources needed to build their society, the base of operation for the ZPD was situated adjacent to City Hall... making it easy for the Mayor or one of his cronies to come down whenever they so darned pleased.

The man in charge was the cape buffalo Idriis M'Bogo... or as he was better known to the city: Chief Bogo. As the Zootopia Police Department's Chief of Police, the muscle-bound, horn-headed, ebony-skinned herbivore was someone who took his job seriously and expected others on the force to do the same. No one would dare argue with the man's commanding presence. Some would say it was the clean lines in his uniform. For others, it was the golden stars on his lapel. For the vast majority, it the fact he could tell a person what each and every item was on his belt–and oddly, when was the last time he used them.

The less said about the history of his Taser, the better... for everyone's peace of mind.

But it was the eyes that told a person the most about the African bovidae. The harshness of his stare was said to reduce rookies to a quivering mess–assuming that wasn't their natural state to begin with. However, it was the intensity of those eyes that told everyone that, yes, he had seen a lot, been through a lot, knew what he was doing, and had absolutely, positively, no time for any bullshit one might try and pull!

And if someone didn't pull their weight on the force, if they were somehow a disgrace to the golden badge that demanded trust, bravery and above all integrity...

Well, he had a pouch on his belt for that... and a story he'd never talk about for that item as well.

However, even though he had the city-state's police force running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine, Chief Bogo still operated directly under the authority of Mayor Lionheart and his council–although the muscle-bound slab of beef often doubted there was a council outside of Assistant Mayor Bellwether that the feline would consult with when it came to launching these hair-brained schemes of his. So sitting at his desk with the leonine politician before him, the man took a deep breath. "Now, let me get this straight..." the cape buffalo said in a deep baritone voice. "For the past twenty-five years, ever since the end of the segregation period, the Zootopia Police Department has been an efficient system run by professional heavy-weight mammals, such as rhinoceroses, hippos, elephants _and_ predators such as wolves, lions, tigers, and bears... and you want to **change** all that!?"

"Oh my, yes!" The lion chirruped as he sat across from the police chief, his hands folded atop his lap as he saw with his legs stretched out and ankles crossed, trying to portray the image of relaxed. "There is only one constant in life, Bogo... and that is change! That said, the council and I believe it's high time for the police to get with the times and modernize as well."

Nostrils flared wide as the police chief snorted. "We _are_ modernized!" Bogo stated firmly. "We have the largest assortment of non-lethal defense in the nation: tear gas, riot control animal repellant agents, riot control muzzles, riot shields, composite batons, water cannons, and the greatest variety of electroshock weapons on the face of God's green earth!" He pushed his chair back and stood up. "And that's only the gear we have on hand! Precinct One is home to the most extensive communications network in the city! Whether on the officer, set in a vehicle dashboard, or installed on one of the many computer stations we have here, everyone is capable of being in touch and updated in real time for the most comprehensive coordination imaginable!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Modernize? The world should be following **our** example!"

As the bovine's tirade came to an end, a smile soon spread across the feline individual's muzzle, an aggravating smirk that made the hairs stand up on the back of the cape buffalo's neck in irritation. "You misunderstand me, my dear police chief... although I think that's more from you trying to change the subject than anything else." He said haughtily as he brought his hands up, tapping the padded tips of his index fingers together. "The ZPD is as well-equipped as it's going to get; we're better off than a number of third world countries' militaries! However, if we're to remain on top, then we must institute the Mammal Inclusion Initiative to ensure that all applicable applicants are employed and treated fairly during their employment in the force, without regard to their species, creed, or nationality!" His massive paws separated apart and came down on the armrests of the chair before Leodore pushed himself out of the chair. Standing before the police chief and matching him in height and muscle mass, the lion continued in a holier-than-thou voice, "It is our duty to promote diversity! To address the past wrongs, harms, and hindrances that had been used to keep down our fine fellow mammals."

Bogo wasn't convinced. He was far too used to the Mayor's shenanigans by now and could smell his bullshit from a mile away even when upwind. So reading between the lines, he bluntly translated, "You mean you're getting ahead when it comes to buttering up the public to make sure their votes put you back into office come the next election." He then smirked back at the feline politician, meeting the predator's stare with his own. "If you really want to help, how about you get those public works projects you always talked about finally up and running? The Outback Island, Canyonlands, and Nocturnal districts have been facing major poverty issues for over a decade now. They need that gentrification you promised more than ever, Lionheart."

Although he maintained eye contact with his cape buffalo, the lion's lip curled back in a snarl; that little reminder of something else the public had been pestering him about having gotten under his skin. "Don't remind me, Bogo. The budgets have been tighter than ever with the Rainforest District biting into the funds more and more with each passing year. One can simply heat up the air or freeze water but it takes a lot of effort to maintain the plant-life of a jungle ecosystem. I intend to get to those problem districts in due time, the citizens there just need be patient. In the meanwhile, all the fair people of Zootopia need proof that I intend to keep my word that things will get better and means the Mammal Inclusion Initiative has been authorized to proceed! Effective **immediately**." He narrowed his eyes, staring into the other man's glare, as if daring the chief of police to defy him.

As the herbivore's features scrunched up in obvious irritation, the cape buffalo could only groan in his throat for a moment in response. Even with his arms crossed over his chest, the burly officer was reflexively clenching the hoof-like digits of his hands into fists. Whenever Mayor Lionheart starting putting on the smarmy, schmaltzy act of faux-piousness, Bogo wanted nothing more than to remind the bastardly bureaucrat that it was never a good idea to aggravate someone that was born with what was the equivalent of a pair of brass knuckles for hands!

As if sensing what the bovidae was thinking, Leodore calmly told him, "Remember your badge, Bogo. You represent this fine city and its ideals."

And that ended the stalemate, the African buffalo letting off an aggravated snort as he broke eye contact with the jungle cat. "Just what do you want from **me** , Mayor Lionheart?" He asked in a gruff voice. "Do you want me to hold a press conference or something? Let the people know we're looking for a few good mammals or something along those lines and that, quote-unquote, 'anyone can be anything'?"

The lion released a loud, hearty laugh. "Oh please! I've got Smellwether handling that aspect for me. I plan to have the Assistant Mayor head over at Bunnyburrows outside of the city proper to start scouting. Hopefully she'll be able to drum up some attention from the local hicks. I'm certain one of those tiny prey animals has big dreams they'll want to see through," he said confidently before tilting his head, considering something. Finally, he added, "And please, take no offense when I say this, Bogo... but anyone who sees you demanding something of them is likely to either run away in terror or faint dead on the spot..." he smirked. "Not that such skill doesn't have its uses now and then!"

"...I'll choose to take that as a compliment," the bovine policeman grumbled irritably. Coming around the desk, the man stared at his boss with a gaze that could have rusted iron at ten paces. "Now to the point, Your Honor. What do you need of me?"

"Ah yes, the point of my visit," the leonine politician smiled. "I need you to make some calls and give the Mammal Inclusion Initiative a jumpstart. I know if anyone can find us a cop we can put on the streets as soon as possible, it would be you," the elected official practically crooned. "I'm certain you have connections, Chief." He then smiled in a very facetious manner. "Or were all those war stories you're so proud just fabricated bits of bant—AH!?" The Mayor gasped as he found himself picked up by the collar of his shirt and held aloft high enough that his feet couldn't touch the floor.

Glaring into the mayor's eyes, the herbivore's chest heaved as he was breathing heavily through his nostrils, making them flare wide. "Listen here, Lion _ **arse**_ ," the cape buffalo stated firmly. "There are many things I am willing to put up with from you. But you daring to call my qualifications into question, to doubt the horrors I've seen that made me the man that I am today, to effectively spit on the brave men I served with who _gave their lives for this country_..." he growled out, sounding much more like a predator than the Mayor was capable of being.

Bringing his hands up in a non-threatening defensive manner, the leonine bureaucrat was quick to apologize, "Sorry! Sorry! I tend to forget that such is a sore spot for you! I meant no disrespect real~EEK!" he squeaked out as the African buffalo dropped him harshly, letting the man crash down into the chair set before the desk. He couldn't help but tremble a little as the immense herbivore glared down at him, the prey animal's muscular chest rising and falling with every labored breath, threatening to pop the buttons of his finely pressed police shirt.

Finally, Bogo attempted to calm himself so he didn't slaughter his boss–there was still the specter of segregation that hung over the city and he didn't want to be accused of a Hate Crime of all things. At first, the cape buffalo closed his eyes, breathing slowly, causing the rise and fall of his chest to become less prominent. Finally opening his eyes, the bovidae turned away from the leonine politician, making his way back around his desk. "All right, Mister Mayor... since you seem to want to do this, I'm going to tell you a story..." he sat down into his seat, hands firmly atop the piece of work furniture. "You _can_ stay silent long enough to listen, can't you?"

The lion nodded his head, making the now frazzled fur of his mane bob erratically with the motion. 

Seeing the Mayor was cowed for the moment, the African buffalo told him, "Good. Now listen and just try to understand what I tell you." He took a deep breath, going silent as he collected his thoughts... the silence also serving as a chance to make the mayor stew in his own juices. Finally though, the man began with, "It seems like a lifetime ago at this point, Lionheart. In fact, it **has** been a solid generation now." He leaned forward, elbows on his desk as he clasped his hands together before the front of his muzzle. "It was December, 1990... the Gulf War was in effect. I was a fresh cadet out of the Military Academy... a mere eighteen-years-old and I was drafted to be part of Operation Desert Shield, just one of the many good lives sent to defend Saddle Arabia. It was the largest military alliance since Zoo War II."

Leaning over his desk a bit more, the dark-skinned buffalo brought one of his cloven hoof hands to his face, rubbing his eyes, as if trying to dredge up the memories caused him physical pain. "Iraq's government made no secret that it would attack if invaded, hence the government sending troops to protect our Camel allies as merely a defensive measure. However, we knew we were in trouble when the ZSA–Iraq peace talks in Geneva broke down. Within five hours, the first attacks were launched. Explosives rained down on us like a siren's cry of death. Those missile attacks continued throughout the war... got so bad that ZS and British special operations forces had to be covertly inserted into Western Iraq to aid in the search for and destruction of scud missiles so we wouldn't be killed waiting there like sitting ducks." The police chief closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Those of us who survived had done so despite those roe deer and wild goat bastards dropping a total of eighty-eight scuds atop our heads over the course of **seven weeks**. Only then were we finally allowed to go on the offensive."

"When we did though, that wasn't the end of our troubles. They fought us tooth and claw." He lowered his hands, the mayor genuinely surprised by just how old Bogo looked. "For months, while me and the rest of my unit were stationed in Saddle Arabia, we were under almost constant Iraqi artillery fire, as well as threats from not only more scud missiles but chemical attacks as well. Needless to say, we lost a lot of good mammals. I think that was our superiors' plans to begin with because when we finally got underway, we were mad as hell and ready to give them as good as they had been putting us through. To do that though, we needed to get through the Iraqi mine-fields: a large and complex trench network that was part of the heavily fortified the fabled, 'Saddam Hoofsein Line'."

A chuckle reverberated in the bovidae's broad chest. "We eventually had a plan that would allow us to proceed forward. To get past the dangers the locals set up, our superiors devised what would become known as the, 'bulldozer assault'. They opted to forgo traditional soldier formations and instead used anti-mine plows mounted on tanks and combat earth-movers to simply _**plow over**_ their mine fields... destroying the enemy's traps, defenses, and burying alive the defending Iraqi soldiers. For once, we had a plan where not a single American soldier was killed during the procedures... but many, _many_ locals and their allies were." He frowned in a rather somberly. "And I was one of the plow drivers..." he sighed. "I didn't think much of it at then, I didn't have the time to. That would come back to bite me in the ass something wicked." 

The disturbed cape buffalo's gaze was drawn to his entwined fingers. "Finally, on February twenty-fourth, American and British armed forces crossed the Iraq border en masse, taking hundreds of those attempting to hold the line as prisoners. Resistance was light, the destruction of all their defenses enough to crumble their spirits. We found out afterwards that a number were forcefully conscripted... some of those _men_ we fought were as young as fourteen-years-old... the real adults and professionals soldiers were stationed in Baghdad or other cities of importance under the guise of home defense while they threw away the future of the next generation... threw them under our tank treads..."

A haunted look came across Bogo's eyes, adding to the intensity of them as he stared at the Mayor. "It was war. I had orders. But when it comes down to it, I was a driver for one of those plow-mounted tanks. I killed cervidae who weren't old enough to go to high school. I..." his words caught in his throat for a moment. "I killed _children_."

Lionheart didn't know what to say to that, his jaw flapping wordlessly. He may have been ready to have the police chief's head on a silver platter for handling him so roughly earlier... but now he was beginning to understand that he had pressed the man's buttons. Brought up issues he should never have even poked at. "Bogo... I..."

The African buffalo brought up a cloven-hooved hand, motioning for the feline to stay silent. "It was a short war, thank God... but I had committed atrocities I couldn't cope with. One night, while I was on one of my rotations for patrol duty, I deviated from my assigned perimeter and pulled my sidearm. The Beretta M9 pistol was standard issue for us soldiers and I was certain that despite my thick skin, a nine millimeter slug could punch through even my skull if I fired off point-blank." His eyes became unnervingly distant. "I don't know how long I stood there with the gun to my temple. I wanted to do it. I so desperately needed to pull the trigger, to end it... to give those kids some form of justice! But I was too much of a coward to go through with it."

A small, sad smile crossed the police chief's face. "Finally though, just as I was certain I could finally do the right thing and end it... a voice called out to stop me..." a deep chuckle reverberated in the large herbivore's chest and throat. "In fact, the guy did far more than scream. He probably intended to tackle me but with his smaller frame, it looked like he was trying to hump my leg. Needless to say, such a sight had me burst out laughing. The absurdity of it all was enough to break me out of the depression that engulfed me, at least for the moment."

Bogo leaned back into his chair. "His name was Captain Jameson "James" Barkley. He was a badger stationed with us as a representative of the British Secret Intelligence Service; one of the on-site organizers for Operation Granby. Many of the big-wigs of the allied front were there that night as part of a joint ZS-Britain staff meeting and he noticed that I wasn't at my post working security. Rather than inform one of the soldiers serving as military police and possibly getting someone in trouble over what could have been nothing at all, the inquisitive badger decided to check on things himself. He... he saved my life that night. He took the time to talk things out with me. Let me know that it wasn't my fault, helped me come to grips with the fact I was being a dutiful soldier and following my orders and that he understood how I felt all too well. He coined it rather poetically, saying the higher-ups forgot Winston Churchill's words of wisdom: "However beautiful the strategy, you should occasionally look at the results"." 

The cape buffalo's gaze settled on the lion before him. "Those simple words meant so much back then and they apply to us here and now. What you want to do, Mayor Lionheart, could have further reaching effects that even _**you**_ might not anticipate. It might bring an end to the emotional segregation that still holds this city tight, even with the shock collars having been long-since abolished... or you might just instill prejudices even deeper in the populace and cause worse problems for generations down the road." He leaned forward, his thick brow furrowing as he stared at the feline politician with deadly seriousness. "In the end, I can't make you do anything except inform you of the facts and simple truths. So think, damn it. **Think!** Do you really intend to throw away a stable status quo for some harebrained scheme that could possibly go so far off the rails that it brings the city down to its knees in complete anarchy?" 

Again, the mayor's jaw moved up and down in silence for a moment. "You... you make valid points, Chief Bogo," the lion begrudgingly replied. As he sat up in the chair he'd been pushed back into, the feline took a moment to straighten out his tie and his jacket, trying to make himself presentable once more. Once he felt more comfortable again, the leonine politician raised his head to meet the bovidae's gaze with his own. "You see, despite my desire to drum you out for your rough behavior, this is _why_ I've kept you in your position. You're better-spoken than you let on. Behind that thick brow and angry glare lies a very intelligent, strategic mind... one that I need to help me." His lips pulled back in a frown. "Like I told you, the Mammal Inclusion Initiative has already gone into effect. If you want to keep it from going down this doomsday scenario you laid at my feet then you had better damn well help me see it through successfully!" He snapped at the burly man sitting behind the desk. "Help me make it **work**!"

Seeing there was no helping the mayor see any other alternative, the chief of the Zootopia Police Department exhaled deeply in an exasperated sigh. "If you really want to do this Mayor Lionheart, then we're going to do this **my** way."

Raising an eyebrow, the proverbial king of the jungle questioned, "Wait... _your_ way?" The lion hissed through gritted fangs, his very stance as he sat up in the chair practically screaming aggression as he demanded an answer. "What do you mean _**your way**_?"

Despite having an angry alpha predator staring down at him, Bogo remained unperturbed. Instead, he firmly replied, "What I mean is we don't half-ass this, Lionheart." He didn't even flinch as the elected official stood up, trying to menace him. The cape buffalo knew he was a prey animal, but he certainly wasn't weak. If push came to shove, he would match the mayor. "If you want to make this work, you don't just make calls and grab someone from another city with promises of better wages or benefits. You don't just make inquiries searching for people who hit all your checkmarks but someone willing to come on their own merit. Because for better or worse, permanent or temporary, they will be representing the Zootopia Police Department! They reflect what we stand for and that, more than anything else, is what will prove to everyone if that damned Mammal Inclusion Initiative of yours has any basis in reality or not."

Settling back into his chair, the Mayor slowly calmed down. This made a lot of sense. He would have been willing to grab anyone he could who fit the criteria he wanted... but if they could find someone dependable? Someone who they could milk the media's goodwill with? "You're right," Lionheart finally agreed. "As always, you're right Chief Bogo..." he chuckled as he shook his head good-naturedly. "But therein lies the catch. Since you're not going to let me just make inquiries across the country looking for a specific species or background... where do you want me to go find a quality officer who IS what I need to be the first face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the cape buffalo was slowly smirking again. "And that, Mayor Lionheart is where my pal James comes in once again."

Blinking his eyes once, then twice, the leonine politician had to query, "Pardon? You mean the guy who was with the British SIS?"

"The same," Bogo replied. "However, he's not part of just Britain's security anymore. He switched fields and eventually enrolled with Interpol as an Inspector. Quickly rolled up the rank to Senior Superintendent and is currently one of their sixteen Commissioner-In-Chiefs, second only to executive officers President Mireille Gazellestrazzi and Secretary General Jürgen Stork in the chain of command. He may not be working the main Headquaters in Lyons, France but as the Commissioner-In-Chief for the French division, he's stationed in the heart of Paris. He has direct access to the best of the best... and with the less stringent and demanding hiring policies in place over there, you will find quality officers that come from more..." the African buffalo trailed off, thinking how to politely put this. "That come from more _questionable_ backgrounds like you want for this Animal Inclusive Initiative of yours, Mayor Lioneheart."

"That's, 'Mammal Inclusion Initiative'. **Mammal** **Inclusion**..." the mayor corrected. However, he wasn't all that upset about the momentary lapse in misnaming, oh no. From what the chief of police was telling him, the cape buffalo had an in with one of the premiere law enforcement agencies in the world. If they could borrow, let alone poach an officer with that kind of pedigree, it would go a long way for making the Mammal Inclusion Initiative look especially promising. More importantly, when people felt a promise for a better future, they went out to the poles in droves to vote for the person that gave them that hope! "But this is otherwise astounding, Chief Bogo! Do you know how to get ahold of this Chief Barkley?"

Nodding his head, the African buffalo replied, "I do..." his eyes were drawn to the clock on the left wall. "However, I believe I need to wait for later to do such. There's at least an eight hour time difference and I'd HATE to bother him when he's likely asleep or on his way out."

The lion snorted. "Oh please! He's a chief of police! If it's anything like here in Zootopia, he's there to at least the wee hours of the morning! Surely he'll take a call from a friend!" He grinned as the cape buffalo glared at him. "Please? For me?" He cringed as the other man's glare intensified. "Okay, okay! I get the point." He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before trying another tactic to get what he wanted out of the belligerent herbivore. "But please, do it for our fair citizens of Zootopia?" 

Staring at the asinine pearly-white smile the mayor was giving him, the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling. "Fine. I'll give it a shot right now. But if he doesn't answer, don't push me to keep calling again and again. I'll wait for later tonight when he's likely starting a new day, all right?"

Smiling wide, the lion could only reply, "That's all I ask."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The International Criminal Police Organization or as it was better known as, 'Interpol' was a government agency that worked around the clock non-stop thanks to having one-hundred and ninety countries pulling their resources to combat crime in all its forms. Terrorism, organized crime, crimes against animality, animal trafficking, illicit traffic in works of art, illicit drug production and trafficking, environmental crime, corruption, and so much more were on the scope of Interpol as sometimes, the local law enforcement needed considerable backup. They were the courageous men and women who lived by–and in some cases, practically _breathed_ –the motto, 'Connecting Police for a Safer World'.

Currently, one of the proud mammals who headed this organization was working late in his office at the Paris branch of the organization. James Barkley was heavy-set badger with a thick brown pelt with a tanned section that ran along his spine and the length of his arms up to the back of his hands. His scalp pelt was short but ruffled against his head, which only served to make his thick graying eyebrows and mustache appear all the more prominent. The police chief was decked out in a gray short-sleeved buttoned shirt which barely managed to hold the girth of the man's abdomen, the garment only held in place by the blue pants that were held up by a set of orange suspenders–his golden badge pinned to the one that went over his left pectoral. Still, said article of clothing meant to keep his trousers up did well to accent the red tie he had on... although even that couldn't pull one's attention away from the large cigar resting at the right corner of his mouth, something that was a common sight on the badger's lips.

Puffing away at his tightly-rolled bundle of dried and fermented tobacco, the man was hard at work while sitting behind a mahogany desk several times larger than him; furniture sized more comfortably for an elephant. While a comical sight to be certain, James had personally requested it as such was the only thing that could hold all his equipment **and** the paperwork that constantly came his way. A desk pad was set right in front of him to do his work on without scratching up the surface, but scattered all around was so much more in no particular pattern. A plaque with his name and rank, a computer, a phone with intercom, a lamp, a digital clock, a metal ashtray filled to overflowing with burnt out gray cinders, a pair of wire baskets for incoming and outgoing documents, a letter holder for mail, a business card holder, a cup filled with pens, pencils, highlighters, a pair of scissors, and a letter opener... and finally, all kinds of stationery items. Whether it was envelopes or papers of various lengths and widths, all free-flowing paper products cluttered nearly every bit of space of the mahogany desktop.

While most who gazed upon it would be horrified to see such horrendous clutter, James preferred to refer to it as an, 'organized mess'. He preferred it that way too. People were less inclined to put in their own two cents with suggestions when they couldn't make heads or tails or anything he was doing. _Part of why I took a shining to Miss Fox. She's about the only other person besides myself who can find anything on my desk_ , he thought with a bit of mirth.

However, such musings were interrupted by the sudden knock on the door. Raising an eyebrow, the mustached musteloidea brought his head up from the case file in hand. "Who is it?" He called aloud. Although the man had a feeling who it was, the badger anthro found it was better to be safe than sorry. Ever since his wife of all people walked in on him while he was personally interrogating a high-class prostitute who had been found in bed with a dead Minister of State, she had been giving him the hairy eye.

The door slowly opened, and a head popped in, revealing the source of the voice to be a very spindly weasel with a pelt that was a surprising shade of purple fur. He smiled a tad nervously as he spoke up. "Sorry for the interruption, Sir. I just wanted you to know I have your coffee." His hands came forward beneath his head through the opening, showing off the beverage. "Black with five sugars, just the way you like it."

Nodding his head, the badger closed the manila envelope he was holding and dropped it down on the desk pad. He then raised his right hand to his mouth and carefully withdrew his cigar. Gently placing the still smoking piece of tightly wrapped tobacco into the ashtray, he motioned to the weasel to enter. "Good. At this rate, I'll be able to have the energy I need to finish this in another hour or two. If I'm lucky enough, I'll be able to catch a four hour nap on my couch before my **next** shift starts."

"Ah yes. It's as they say, Chief... no rest for the wicked!" The weasel chirruped as he opened the door fully and stepped into the room, revealing his appearance to be more of a stereotypical nerd. The combination of green slacks pulled up so high by the too-short set of suspenders that the waistband was meeting his chest and the huge red bow made it so one could barely see his overly starched white shirt or police badge pinned to it. He trembled a little as he came up to the desk before placing a white cup and plate down on the desk before his superior. "Will there be anything else, Chief Barkley?"

His eyes gazing down on his cup of steaming brown liquid, the man gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Not at the moment, thank you. That will be all for now, Detective Winthrop..."

The weasel winced. "Actually... it's, 'Winthorp' Chief Barkley. Winthorp." He corrected with a nervous tick. _Sweet cheese and crackers! I've been here for half a decade and he_ _ **still**_ _hasn't gotten my name right_ , the weasel thought before bowing out of the room; walking backwards until he was at the door frame. "Call me if you need anything, Sir," the mustelidae offered before leaving rather quietly, an ability that seemed to be a staple of his species' skillset. 

When the weedy little man had left, the chief brought the steaming porcelain cup to his lips. Carefully, the older furry police officer sipped the dark contents within. He swirled the burning coffee around in his mouth for a moment, cringing as he swallowed–and no, not from pain. While the coffee the station had did the trick for a caffeine fix, that didn't account for the taste. "We work on a seventy-eight million Euro annual budget... and yet not a single cent is spent on some _decent_ coffee..." the badger murmured irritably at the injustice of it all as he lowered his cup before placing it down atop his desk. Still, with the renewed burst of energy, the man reached over to his ashtray to retrieve his stogie. Settling it back into his mouth, he brought the envelope up once more to check over his work.

 _Or be more precise, Inspector Fox's work_ , he thought as he looked at the picture that was held in place atop the manila folder with a paperclip: a headshot of one Sargent Sylvester Cooper. While the case concerning Cyrille Le Paradox had been officially closed for over two months, the older musteloidea still knew the vulpine officer was still searching for her partner. In all honesty, on a personal level he couldn't blame her. While it had been a... **chaotic** relationship with Sly over the past eight years, he had to admit that the vixen made good on her promise to make the master thief into one of Interpol's greatest assets. 

A smile slowly tugged at the corner of his lips. While not something James usually shared with others, such an expression was a small luxury he could afford himself. Oh yes... five years of putting all his best agents on the case and yet the damned raccoon had what was considered the most successful career of modern criminals. Yet it was Carmelita who never gave up. It was her who promised she would bring him to justice and he was more than pleased when he heard the news that she was successful... it just wasn't how the man had expected her to do it.

While there was certainly no such law as, 'Amnesia Amnesty' Inspector Fox had pleaded on behalf of the raccoon whole-heartedly. She saw it as a chance to reform the man and turn him into a contributing member of society. She even tried to **justify** a number of the crimes he committed in the past! Cases that James himself had set the Hispanic vulpine on! At that point, he was more than ready to throw the book at the damned Cooper and let the justice system see it through... and yet he held back. Carmelita Montoya Fox wasn't just a member of Interpol, she was his hand-chosen protégé, a by-the-books officer, and the woman he one day intended to replace him as the Commissioner-in-Chief for the Paris branch of Interpol. Could he really claim he wanted such for her if he couldn't trust her? So despite his better judgment, he federalized Cooper, made him a Constable, and set him up as Inspector Fox's partner.

Barkley couldn't have been happier with the results. Over the past three years, the pair proved themselves time and again to be an incredibly effective duo, proving the old idiom of, 'use a thief to catch a thief' had a basis in truth. Within months, the raccoon had netted himself a promotion to the rank of Sargent and truth be told? The badger had been planning on giving Cooper **another** promotion to the rank of Inspector. Not only because the former master thief deserved it, but it would also coincide nicely with his plans to promote Fox to the station of Senior Superintendent. God knew the woman had earned it and that such would help line her up to eventually take the role of Deputy Commissioner.

And yet, it seemed that it was not to be. Sly had been lost to–of all things–a blimp explosion! Carmelita refused to accept it but the facts remained. The poor woman was so in denial that she was making claims of _time travel_ being involved! Still, even with such a hokey concept to try and pin Le Paradox with, there was more than enough evidence of his real crimes to put the owner of the air ship away for some time to come. A museum full of black market exhibits and forged documents to pose as **royalty** of all things had been the most serious case of fraud the badger had seen in his career... not to mention the added counts of kidnapping an officer of the law and murdering another! The man who was responsible for the death of Sargent Cooper was brought to justice and yet Inspector Fox wasn't able to get closure from it.

That was why he kept a close eye on her findings. Each and every day, a little bit more was added but it was at the point where she was grasping at straws now. _After all, it's not like time travel is a real thing_ , he snorted. James knew that eventually, this personal investigation she was playing out on her off time was going to come to an end. She was fortunate it hadn't affected her real work negatively at all for the time being–in fact, she was doing incredibly well by herself! But the mustached badger knew that when the vixen came crashing back to reality that it was going to be **hard**.

"She needs to realize that it's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's required," the old badger murmured. And he knew that above all, if he was to salvage this situation, he needed to separate the vixen from it. As much as Barkley appreciated and tried to accommodate Inspector Fox, doing so at this point would only lead to her ruin. The vulpine needed to realize what was required of her was to let it go. They were all going to miss him but Sargent Cooper was no longer among them. He had earned his funeral with military honors and would be remembered fondly amongst the men and women he had running around trying to catch him once upon a time. "A fitting end to the Cooper legacy, really. A long line of master thieves receives a quiet and respectable conclusion because the last of them chose to follow the law and a life of right in the end."

Bringing his hand up to his face so he could firmly grasp his stogie so it wouldn't move from his lips, the Commissioner-in-Chief puffed on his cigar, trying to ease his worries and take strength from his personal vice. He was not going to look forward to seeing the vixen the next time he called her into his office but James had to harden his heart. He knew Carmelita would be a credit to upper management one day but he needed to let her know that going down this path would tear down everything she had worked so hard for! But how would he get her to understand? "It's too bad she's not a fan of Churchill's words of wisdom," he murmured softly, before inhaling deeply. He then began exhaling the smoke from his lungs in a pattern of rings as he puffed it through his lips. Such a silly little thing but it did help to steady his nerves. 

As he smoked, the red light on his phone began flickering. He sighed as he removed his cigar with his right hand, holding it between his index and middle fingers while his left hand reached for the phone's base. Pressing the button, he replied, "What is it, Detective Winthrop?"

" _It's, 'Winthorp' Chief Barkley. Winthorp_ ," the whiny voice on the line replied. " _But I digress, Sir. You have a call on line one from America. Shall I patch them through?_ "

That statement made the old badger raise an eyebrow, the gray hairs of his mustache fluttering as he exhaled through his nose a bit faster than he meant to. "From the States?" Well now, that was curious. While the Zoonited States allowed Interpol jurisdiction within their borders, the ZSA had not been one of the original members and had no branch office. So when the Americans were the first to make contact with them, it often meant something **big** was going down on the international scene. Pressing the red button again, Barkley asked, "Who is it? Is it the FBI, the CIA, or the NSA?" If it was that last one, he could probably ignore it.

As he removed his hand, the weasel replied, " _Actually, none of the above. This is coming out of Zootopia, Chief_."

Again, the old badger had to blink his eyes. He pressed his left index finger on the button once more as he queried, "Zootopia? You mean the hippy liberal City-State that's straddling the border between Washington and Canada? What do they want with us?"

Again, Winthorp was quick to respond as the musteloidea's finger left the call button. " _Yes, Sir. That Zootopia. It's their police chief, one Idriis Bogo. He says you would know him better as, 'Big Driis'_."

"Big Driis!" The badger chimed out almost merrily. Ah yes, he remembered the African buffalo quite well. Back when they were both stationed in Saddle Arabia and weighed considerably lighter, although his case had more to do with body fat in comparison to the herbivore's gain in muscle. "I haven't heard from him in a while. It's had to be, oh... four years now?" Although he was audible, the man said that more to himself than his subordinate. Shaking his head to clear it of the jumbled onslaught of thoughts that came to him all at once, the man eventually told the weasel, "Patch him through."

Removing his hand from the phone's base, he awaited for line one's button to flash. Within mere seconds, the red light of the intercom system turned off and the switch of line one began to glow a blue. The mustached badger pressed the button, allowing the phone to start ringing. He wrapped his fingers around the wireless handset and brought it to the side of his head. "Hello?" He chimed into the receiver in a firm tone. "Commissioner-in-Chief Jameson Barkley of Interpol, speaking. M'Bogo?"

" _Yeah_ ," a gruff voice replied over the receiver. " _It's me, Barkley. I... apologize for not keeping in touch as well as I should have. The past few years have been incredibly busy_."

A chortle sounded in the badger's throat. "Becoming Chief of Police will do that to you. Take it from someone with experience. The longer you're there, the more work that's going to fall into your lap. The SRD principle at work."

" _SRD?_ " The deep baritone voice of the herbivore queried.

Smirking, James explained, "Shit Rolls Downhill. We're the first to get it from our bosses and meddling politicians. Fortunately, we're high enough that we're not at the bottom where it all gathers into a steaming pile."

His only answer for a moment was silence. However, before the badger could speak up again, the cape buffalo's voice began once more. " _Actually, that's part of why I'm contacting you. You know of Zootopia's rich history, don't you?_ " 

A frown crossed the badger's features. "If you're referring to how Zootopia was neck deep in specism and segregation to the point where you people were still using shock collars on the predator populace less than thirty years ago... then yes, I am."

A groan came over the line. " _Yes, I was referring to the predator-prey interspecies relations but I was trying to be more polite about it_."

The badger snorted. "Please, Big Driis. You know you don't have to be polite with me. I'm not some politician. I **work** for a living." He placed his cigar back into the ashtray as before his then freed right hand reached for his cup of coffee. Taking a sip from it, the Interpol Commissioner-in-Chief continued, "So tell me, why bring up the old wounds of your city to me? What's going on, M'Bogo?" 

" _Straight to the point as always, aren't you James? All right_ ," the voice of the African buffalo seemed pleased. " _Mayor Lionheart is trying to push something he's calling the Animal Exclusive Initiative where_ —"

" _It's called the Mammal Inclusion Initiative!_ " Another voice yelled from the ZPD Chief's end of the line, breaking off what the bovidae was going to say.

Blinking his eyes once, twice, thrice... the badger pulled the phone away from his head to look at it curiously. "What the bloody hoo-ha-hey?" He then pulled it to the left side of his face again and demanded to know, "M'Bogo! What the devil is going on over there?"

" _I am deeply sorry about that interruption, Chief Barkley_ ," the cape buffalo apologized. " _The mayor is sitting here with me and he doesn't know better_." James could hear the bovine policeman growling. " _But back to topic, this_..." he paused for a moment. When he spoke again, it sounded like he bit down on a lemon. " _Mammal Inclusion Initiative of his is something that's supposed to break down more of the species barriers and offer equal opportunity for employment in all fields. The Zootopia City Council is pushing it and they expect immediate results, no matter how unrealistic the time frame_."

Nodding his head, the older badger had to admit, "With the exception of believing you can make a difference overnight, I'll be honest: that doesn't sound too bad. Quite reasonable actually..." he sighed a little sadly. "The segregation had been terrible over there and I'll be glad to hear the people in charge are finally offering predators more chances to integrate themselves into society. Your little City-State might actually live up to that, 'hippy liberal' stereotype at this rate!" He chuckled at his own joke.

"... _Yeah_..." Bogo began, sounding **really** uncomfortable. " _Things have been getting better in that regard. In fact the majority of the police force is currently comprised of predator officers_ ," he said rather proudly. " _But that isn't what the council's new initiative is about. They want to get certain species out of their stereotypical niches and roles in society. To get the ball rolling, they are hoping to hire, exchange, or even simply borrow one of your officers. They want the ZPD to establish a positive minority presence within the ranks of its police force... someone from a species that has historically been oppressed. And they want that transfer immediately_." He sighed, sounding very displeased about all this. " _I was hoping you would be willing to help out an old friend before the bureaucrats do something incredibly stupid_."

The badger blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. He inhaled deeply as a thought occurred to him. "You know... I **wish** you had called me about this initiative thing two or three months ago. I would have had the perfect agent for you. Raccoon... orphaned at a young age... an ex-convict. But he really shaped himself up in the past three years. He defied all expectations concerning his past and became an upstanding member of society and a pride of Interpol."

" _He sounds like just the person we_ _ **need**_ _!_ " The voice Chief Barkley now realized was that of Mayor Lionheart cried out excitedly. " _When can you send him?_ "

Now the badger was seeing red. "Oh? You want me to send Sargent Cooper over? Sure... I'll do that right now! Just give me an e-mail and I'll forward you **his goddamn obituary!** " James roared into the mouthpiece of the phone. "What part of me wishing you had called earlier did you **not** pick up on, _**asshole**_!?"

As he breathed heavily, only silence answered him. James was ready to slam the phone on the cradle then and there–reminded of just why he hated politicians so much. However, the mustached musteloidea stayed his hand, despite his desire to reduce his phone to a mess of broken plastic. A realization had come to him in his fury... a thought that this actually might be the best thing for another one of his officers.

So, taking another deep breath to calm himself enough to talk civilly, the badger began speaking once more. "M'Bogo. Are you there?"

" _I am_ ," the voice replied almost immediately. " _Look James, I am terribly sorry about that. Mayor Lionheart tends to speak before his brain catches up with whatever comes out of his fool mouth. It won't happen again_."

"It won't," the badger agreed. "Because I am only talking to you on this," he stated firmly, hoping that idiot mayor caught the hint to keep his trap shut. "You need to establish a police presence that will tug at the heartstrings of the populace? Get them questioning their own preconceived notions and prejudices? I have one for you: Cooper's widow."

 _"...His... widow?_ " the voice of the cape buffalo queried.

"In all but legal definition," the badger replied. "They weren't married but it was obvious to anyone even half blind how in love they were; lived together, worked together, ate together, everything. That canid's been throwing herself into her work with his death but I can see she's going to burn out soon. The Inspector has done and _still is_ doing so much good for us... heck, the fact that Paris' crime rate is currently at the lowest it's been in ten years is all thanks to her and her alone." Inhaling deeply, the small predator sighed. Bringing his right hand to his face, he rubbed his eyes as he continued, "It would be a shame if she lets this ruin her... and sooner or later, something _is_ going to give. So I hope we can make this Mammal Inclusion Initiative mutually beneficial."

" _Mutually beneficial?_ " Bogo queried. " _I take it you want us to enroll her into the program?_ " 

"Quite," the older police commissioner replied. "Paris is where everything happened. It's here that she lost the most important person in her life. Carmelita isn't going to find closure if she remains in the city and she's refusing to take any cases outside of street level until she can come to grips with what happened, which is only serving to hurt her more in the meantime. I believe if the Inspector realizes the importance of what this initiative of your mayor's is capable of... she'll cave in and go... and hopefully find some peace of mind in the process." 

The phone was silent again, although the Interpol official could hear murmurs in the background noise, the pair on the other end obviously arguing. Finally, the deep voice of the Zootopia Police Chief came on the receiver once more. " _Are you certain this is a good idea, James? If she's really that broken up she might choke on the job or worse. I can't have her break down at a pivotal moment or another; it could put my other officers at risk_."

"I'm positive," the badger answered. "I trust the Inspector with my life... even if I've failed to return that trust once or twice." He sighed, remembering how he took the word of that upstart officer Neyla and traitorous warden Contessa over his own hand-picked understudy. "I know she won't let you down, M'Bogo. I wouldn't have chosen her as my protégé otherwise."

" _Your protégé!?_ " Was the surprised response. " _Even if she's having issues right now, do you really want to send us one of your best?_ " Apparently, the fact that he considered her to be his eventual replacement did more to appease the ZPD Chief than the badger would have thought.

Barkley couldn't help but smile. "One of? Oh my dear, _dear_ Big Driis... she isn't one of my best. She **is** my best. In her eight year career, she has collared more large scale criminals than any single officer in the history of this company. Pirates, Mafia dons, counterfeiters, narcotics dealers, warlords, black market racketeers, terrorists, the works! This one woman has done more for the **world** than–dare I say–the rest of her department combined during the same span of active service!" Although a bitter pill to swallow, he added, "Including me!"

However, left unsaid was that Inspector Fox did have a trio of failures on her record, not counting the charges of treason she was cleared of. Yes, losing the Firestone of India was a big deal and all... but really, it was her only _true_ personal failure as far as he was concerned. The lost museum stamp that was eventually returned via the mail service and a stolen _piece of chocolate_ wasn't the worst that could happen. Really, her record with Interpol was damn near perfect. "So what do you say, M'Bogo? You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."

The voice on the other end of the line chuckled. " _I'm willing to do it but is there anything else I should know about? Things the mayor's publicists can play up? Not that_ _ **I**_ _give a crap but I can see the mayor getting antsy in his seat_."

The badger rolled his eyes. "Damn politicians..." he took a deep breath to make sure his voice was steady before answering. "All right. My protégé is a canid from a Latin background and–no surprise–speaks Spanish as her first language but she also came into the service knowing sign language thanks to a deaf grandmother. She also learned fluency in English and French to be better acquainted with her job at Interpol; I was her personal teacher in the former and I must say I was impressed by how quickly she picked it up." James chuckled. "She's also been a major globetrotter, especially her first half decade of work. She went everywhere from heavily storming islands off of England, to trudging through the murky swampy of Haiti, climbing the snowy Mountains of China, delving into the deep jungles of India, had survived the frozen North of Canada with _no_ back up whatsoever, lead a force of mercenaries through the rocky deserts of Australia... HELL! She even had the brass balls to fly into an **active** _ **volcano**_ in Russia for one of her cases!" He puffed his cigar firmly. "There is no one more adapt to transverse between all the districts of Zootopia than Inspector Carmelita Montoya—"

" _She's perfect!_ " The voice that James now recognized as the Mayor Lionheart's interrupted... **again**. " _A minority background in both species and race, strong family values, a multi-cultured linguist, a hard-working, experienced adaptive police_ _ **woman**_ _so she's got gender going for her as well... not to mention the civilians will just eat up the personal tragedy aspect. Please Chief Barkley, I beg of you! Send us your protégé! I promise we will treat her as if she were one of our own!_ "

A small twitched as at the corner of the mustached man's eye. "That's what I'm afraid of..." he murmured, knowing that even though Zootopia finally took down the barriers that segregated prey and predator, that prejudices could still run high. "I will be glad to talk her into going if she is what you want, **Chief Bogo** ," he stated the buffalo's name firmly to point out to the bureaucrat that he only wanted to deal with the head of the ZPD.

There was a groan that came from the phone's receiver. Finally the deep voice began once more. " _Again, I do apologize for that. Mayor Lionheart is a bit over-exuberant and can't seem to keep his voice down_." James would have sworn he heard the African buffalo growling. " _Still, you do portray her in a pretty positive light. I'd be glad to have her work with our department for a while if you're okay with it. How long would you be willing to loan her to us?_ "

Considering that for a moment, the badger puffed on his cigar... only to wince as he felt a burn. He quickly removed the little stub that's was left of the stogie with his right hand and tossed it onto the ashtray, causing a mess as a considerable amount of the piled up ash went falling over the metal edges of the tray. "Just tell me one thing. The city is also working on training people they want to join this initiative from within, right?"

" _Yes_ ," Bogo's firm voice replied. " _We are already looking to enroll candidates within the Zootopia Police Academy_."

"Good!" Barkley chirruped. "If you want, you can borrow the Inspector for... let's say, six-to-seven months. That will give her a chance to cover your bases and a bit of time to train with the newbies before she comes back to Interpol. Is that acceptable?"

" _Very!_ " The cape buffalo replied with obvious relief. " _Thank you again, James. We'll make preparations for housing and getting her settled within the Force. I owe you one, Barkley_."

"Please, M'Bogo... there's no such thing as favors between friends. You'll be helping me out just as much as this will help you." His right hand came down to the top drawer at his right, revealing a cigar box within. The badger picked out one of the rolled tubes of dried fermented tobacco in his hand and rolled it about with his fingers, inspecting it. "However, I will do you something I consider a favor by offering some friendly advice: invest in a good set of ear-plugs. When she gets angry, she gets **loud**."

A chuckle came over the voice. " _No surprise. That's just how chihuahuas are. You take a care now while we make preparations. I need to get back to work so I bid you a good night, Chief Barkley_."

"Sure, you take care, Big Dri—wait!" the badger snapped... only to realize he only had the dial-tone greeting him. He looked at the handset in shock, not sure if he heard that or not. "Do... do they think Carmelita is some tiny, yappy dog!?"

Come to think of it, he had mentioned she was Latin and that she was canid a couple of times. However, he never did get to tell them the woman was a vulpine outright. They were making assumptions! The badger needed to call them back ASAP to fix this oversight.

However, just as he was about to reach over and press the button that would dial the number of the last incoming call, the mustached musteloidea stopped in his tracks... for he got an idea.

A wonderful idea.

An awful idea.

Chief Barkley got a wonderful, _awful_ idea.

"Never assume, my dear M'Bogo..." the badger chuckled. "For assuming makes an ass out of you and me." And he would gladly accept looking like a jerk if he got people to see Mayor Lionheart as a buffoon.

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 **Author's Note** : Well, there we go people: new and different take on a Sly Cooper and Zootopia crossover fanfiction as of the time of this posting. While some of you dear readers might think this is a bit darker for Zootopia than was seen in the movie, I would like to point out that the original concepts were far, _far_ worse. I will be using some of those original materials as history of Zootopia as well as for things to use in there here-and-now of the story. You can find a lot of the stuff on Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog...

Speaking of which, thank you Nicolaswilde for permission to use original aspects you came up with in your fan-work. While none have been used yet, it's appreciated.

For those curious as to the placing of Zootopia geographically in this fanfic, that is thanks to three things. First we have the character of Peter Moosbridge. Being both in the US and Canadian releases of the film, I figured Washington would be a good place to position it. Secondly, there is tthe Washington State Scenic and Recreational Highways program, and **no one** can tell me that Judy's trip to Zootopia wasn't scenic. For my third reason, some the _craziest_ stuff came out of that state... like the Science-Fiction Museum and the George Kenny School of Chainsaw Carving. Yes, that IS a thing!

As for the whereabouts of Sly Cooper? He IS alive according to the secret ending of the game... however, most animals won't believe in Time Travel and so the public at large that knows the raccoon believes Cooper to have passed on. Carmelita knows the truth of course, and so is trying her darnedest to find him but it just makes people worry about her sanity otherwise. The, "No, there's a chance the rip in time and space sent him somewhere" excuse doesn't hold much merit for skeptics.

Chief Bogo's military potential comes from the notes of Nick Orsi, visual development artist who saw the cape buffalo as someone out of the marines but also at the point where as buff guys get older, all that muscle masses into one brick. Sine Zootopia takes place in Modern day, (in this case, 2014 for the benefit of the Sly Cooper game and development time of the Zootopia movie) Operation Desert Storm lined up best with when Bogo would have been prime military age. And I think that makes him badass–no offense to any donkeys out there.

Also on the top of Bogo, the name comes from his voice actor. The Chief just FEELS like he should have a more proper name and "Bogo" feels more Americanized... so why not give him a more proper name while the vast majority of the public at large refers to him as, 'Chief Bogo'?

And finally, for those wondering... yes, this story serves as a Sly Cooper Sequel and a Zootopia Prequel. It seemed like the best jumping point to combine the two series, as I wanted to come up with a story that was more original than just a retreading of the games or the movie. I do hope you'll all stay tuned and let me know what you think. 


	2. Difference of Opinion

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat  
Beta Read By Innortal & Nanya

Chapter 2: Difference of Opinion

Carefully making her way up the rickety and warped remnants of scaffolding, the vulpine policewoman held her shock pistol before her at the ready; the heat of the volcano leaving a haze in the air that made it difficult to see more than a few feet before her. The smog that was lifting up all around her was due to the interior of the Krack-Karov smoldering with all the wreckage that lay within the magma interior, metal and electronics that had made up the mad mechanical owl's doomsday device were proving quite resilient, even to the molten rock.

The woman came to a stop as she saw her target by the edge of the metal walkway. It was a masked, grey-pelted male raccoon. His attire was comprised of a blue long-sleeved shirt with yellow collar and a black leather belt around the waist, black boots, yellow gloves with lengthy black cuffs that reached his elbows, a bright red backpack, and to look topped off with a blue cap. His right arm held a good cane, the top of it a golden C-like shape, akin to a Shepard's crook, the shaft of the tool's length resting on the raccoon's shoulder. His left hand held tightly onto a series of pages, the worn papers covered with scribbled of browned ink, hinting at its age.

She took careful steps towards the criminal, her gloved hands grasping the pistol grip so tightly that the leather creaked. She allowed him a moment to reach behind his back and place the papers into his backpack as he lowered his cane with his other; such an unnatural position would make it more difficult for him to simply lunge into a sprint. "Freeze, Cooper!" She called out to the procyonidae perp. "Slowly turn around and hands where I can see them!"

The raccoon jolted in place, taken by surprise for once. Both hands rose up at either side of his head, his right hand still holding onto his cane. He slowly turned, his torso twisting to his left, allowing him to look over that shoulder in full. The career criminal gave her a nervous smile. "Huh... looks like we're not going to be friends anymore..." he softly chuckled, the man's laugh a surprisingly sad sound. "So, with Clockwerk's death ray out of commission, we're back to playing cops and robbers?"

Taking her left hand off of the shock pistol, the vulpine Interpol agent reached into her jacket pocket while her right hand kept the electric weapon aimed on him. "You knew this was going to happen eventually, Cooper." She then withdrew a pair of handcuffs, twirling them on her left index finger. "I should save myself a lot of trouble and slap these on you right here and now."

His fingers twitching, the raccoon slowly turned about so he was facing the Hispanic vixen outright. "Yeah... you could..." he admitted rather reluctantly. "And here I thought handcuffs were saved for the third date," he mumbled wistfully underneath his breath. Yet the smile that blossomed on his face made it clear he had meant for Carmelita to hear that.

Inspector Fox didn't deign to answer that. Still, she did have something else important to tell him. "However..." she looked at the raccoon thief over the sights of her firearm. "I **am** a woman of my word," she said in all seriousness even as a smile spread across her muzzle. The red fox couldn't help but feel slightly giddy at being the one to finally offer a teasing grin for once. "I promised you a ten second head-start, didn't I?"

Smiling, the mammalian master thief lowered his arms, his smile returning in full. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that the vulpine woman found rather alluring on his handsome features. "Oh, my dear Inspector... you are too good to me sometimes, you know that?"

Shaking her head in annoyance, Carmelita held her shock pistol up, the bright red firearm with yellow trim primed and ready while her trigger finger feeling felt awfully itchy. He was so close to her, such an easy target from this distance... but the officer promised him. And thus, began to count down. "Ten... nine... eight..."

As soon as the woman began counting backwards, Cooper gave the police officer a grin that reached from ear-to-ear. He brought the heel of his cane down on the platform and leaned forward, both hands placed atop the crescent-shaped gold handle. He looked into her eyes, even as she continued to count down.

"Seven... six... five..." was the cycle of numbers that came from the vulpine woman's lips. Pocketing the handcuffs, the police vixen brought her left hand up to the crimson shock pistol, steadying it. _Why isn't he running!?_ She mentally screamed as she stared down at that widely smiling face of the thief. She felt a flush of embarrassment as he brought his left hand up and ripped the brim of his cap upwards, showing off more of his face to the officer.

The Hispanic Interpol agent knew _**she**_ was the one sweating now. Her hold on her weapon was becoming shaky, despite how tightly she gripped. "Four... three... two..."

And then it happened. Before she could finish the countdown, the volcano erupted behind Sly, leaving the raccoon illuminated from behind by an angry, crimson light of molten rock that bubbled red and orange as pockmarks of black meshed along the surface, portions of unleashed magma trying to harden before reheating and being enveloped within the mass once more.

Yet, all this intensely heated semifluid earth didn't come raining down on them in fiery death. Oh no, it just rose into the air higher and higher, the cascade shaping into a rather familiar avian form. Carmelita would have sworn her heart stopped as the lava took on the appearance akin to that of an owl. Immense amounts of magma reached out from either side of the pillar as a pair of enormous aerodynamic appendages with a wingspan that blotted out the sky. As the face took shape, its eyes began glowing with an intense burning yellow light, flickering with flames so incredibly violent it was as if they were solar flares.

The creature of molten rock looked down on them with those hate-filled eyes before its gaze settled on the tiny raccoon at the edge of the catwalk before it. " _ **Coo~oooop~eeerrrrrrrr**_..." it growled in a hollow, metallic voice that boomed throughout the area. It then released a bird-like screech that made Carmelita drop her gun and raise her hands to the top of her head, trying to muffle her ears with her palms... yet it still came through as high pitched as ever.

And then it happened. All that mass of lava came down upon the raccoon, the avian shape lost as it just became an immense flow of super-heated rock that would engulf the man. Her eyes going wide with horror, the woman tried to run forward, to grab him... only to find her legs refused to move. "SLY!" The vixen screamed in impotent terror as the mass of angry-eyed rock was about to make contact.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

"SLY!" Carmelita cried out as she jolted from her sleep-haggard state, only to end rolling off from her couch and come crashing down on the floor. The partially undressed red fox grunted as she rose up to her hands and knees, shaking her head to clear her senses. Breathing heavily, the woman clad only in her tube-top, skirt, and socks was doing her best to calm herself even as her heart beat thunderously inside her chest. "Just... just a dream..." she gasped out, trying to get her waking thoughts back in order and process what was going on around her. "Just a dream... that never happened. Just a dream," she repeated the mantra in an effort to calm herself.

Raising her head slowly, the woman needed to get her bearings. Yes, she was still at her office, sitting on the floor. Settled in the wall to her right was a set of windows that looked out to the early morning skyline of Paris. The policewoman then turned to her left, gazing towards the North side of the room where her six feet long green faux-leather couch was settled–and that she fell off from. The Latina vulpine was thankful that she had the venetian blinds of the solid glass office window above it closed; the Hispanic vixen wouldn't want any of her fellow Interpol officers seeing her in her current sorry state.

Climbing back up onto her couch, the woman settled into it. As she did, she gazed about her office, trying to get her thoughts in order to relax. Almost directly across from her was her jacket strewn over a filing cabinet. The floor was tile–durable and hard as she could attest to just then–was remarkably clean, save for the dust bunny.

No, really, it was a bunny made of nothing but dust. The vixen had to blink her eyes as she would have sworn it just waved at her in cheerful greeting.

Bringing her hand to her face, the woman rubbed her eyes. "Necesito conseguir una limpieza o algo así," Carmelita complained in her native tongue about needing a maid before shaking her head. Her gaze moved to her 'L'-shaped desk near the Western wall where her Academy Diploma hung prominently. The desk itself was a mostly empty save for a desk lamp, a computer monitor with a keyboard and mouse, and a cushioned swivel chair on wheels settled behind it for her to be comfortable when she got down to working. On the Southern wall were a set of shelves... well, cupboards to be more precise. Carmelita wondered why they were always on the ground. She hated bending over to get stuff from them; it always felt like someone was scoping her rear end out when she did that.

Above that was a book shelf, though she kept it free of books since the height it was at made it rather useful for storing physical pieces of evidence while she was working on cases. And finally, situated in the Northeastern corner of the room, she had a large filing cabinet, a television situated right on top of it.

Everything was in order, this was her office as she last left it; she was awake... and the clock hanging on the wall showed the fox with navy blue tresses had another hour to go before she had to punch in for her next shift. "Fuck it..." she murmured. She didn't feel rested at all. It was one thing to try and keep running on four hours but when her sleep was haunted by terrible dreams, it wasn't all that useful for recuperation. No, she needed a little boost. "A small nap won't hurt," she murmured as she gently lay herself back, closing her eyes.

However, the woman only had a minute to close her eyes before the office door to the left of the couch was opened quickly, nearly smashing the closest window along the Eastern wall as it made them rattle violently on contact. "Whoops! Sorry!" The purple weasel with his hand on the wooden barrier with a small, eye-height glazed window that was emblazoned with the insignia of an Interpol officer's badge apologized profusely. "I hope I didn't wake you, Inspector Fox!"

Still laying down on her couch, the Hispanic vulpine officer slowly cracked her brown eyes open to see the source of her interruption; the familiar desk jokey standing there with a bright and cheery smile on his face. "No... no you didn't, Detective Winthorp..." she replied kindly, albeit tiredly. Internally, she wanted to chew him out for entering without knocking but she was too tired for that. Taking a deep breath, the fatigued woman pushed herself to a sitting position once more and looked to her right at him. "What do you need?"

Blinking his eyes at the sight of the disheveled vixen the weasel then averted his gaze and brought his free hand up. Coughing into his left fist to clear his throat, the man turned his attention back to the red fox and answered, "Just two things. First, I brought you coffee!" He chimed merrily as he reached his right hand out to offer the tall Styrofoam cup. "Four creams, three shots of liquid sugar, and a shot of French vanilla: just the way you like it!" He shook the cup slowly to let the brown contents of the coffee dip and crest in waves along the surface of the beverage... but not enough to where it would spill over the sides.

Her nose twitching at the aroma of the steaming liquid, the woman perked up slightly, now _slightly_ glad that he barged into her office. "Thank you, Winthorp," the blue-tressed vulpine replied earnestly as she more than gladly accepted the offered caffeinated beverage from him. Bringing it to her lips, the woman sipped carefully, both to not burn herself and to just revel in energizing effect it was slowly having on her. Pulling the cup away from her muzzle, the woman parted her jaws and exhaled. "Ah, yeah... that's the stuff..." she murmured before bringing the coffee back to her greedy maw.

Watching as the woman enjoyed the coffee, the purple-pelted weasel let off a sigh of his own. He always enjoyed that warm, comfortable sensation he got whenever he was around the vixen, feeling content without a care in the world. _And with Sargent Cooper out of the picture, I'll be able to make my move soon_ , he thought gleefully. The news of the raccoon agent's apparent death had been nothing but wonderful to the Detective. Carmelita had always had her attention on that darned Sly Cooper from day one of his criminal career, and it had been even more difficult to make a move on the Latina woman once the thief somehow evaded punishment and joined them at Interpol. But with him dead? Oh yes, now there was no one to stand between the dutiful officer clerk and the woman he deserved!

 _And soon_ , the violet-furred mustelidae thought with satisfaction. _She'll get over him and move on with her life. Then I'll be able to just slide myself into the picture and take over where he left off. Then it will be my name she'll be whispering lovingly. I can just hear it now_.

"Winthorp? Winthorp? Hey, Winthorp?"

A giddy smile crossed the weasel's muzzle. _Yeah, just like that_... he thought wistfully.

" **Detective Winthorp** **Wēzel!** " The vixen barked the man's full name, snapping the weasel back to reality. She raised one of her navy blue eyebrows in curiosity, watching as her fellow officer stumbled about in place, throwing his arms up before jumping up in shock–even that eyesore of a bright red bowtie seemed to spin place on his neck in an almost comical fashion! Despite how mean it made her feel, the vulpine officer couldn't help but feel a bit of smug satisfaction at having caught him off-guard as he had her just minutes prior. Still, the red fox allowed the man a moment to calm down before asking in a much softer voice, "Now then, Detective... I believe you said you had something else for me?"

Finally gathering his wits, the violet-pelted Interpol paper-pusher nodded his head rapidly. "Y-yes, Inspector Fox!" He chirruped as he brought both hands down to his waistband, pulling his pants up a bit more to the point where the garment practically covered his chest. As they slid down a bit without him to hold them there, he explained, "Chief Barkley wants to see you before your shift starts. Apparently he has a special mission for you and needs you to begin right away!" He grinned at her. "Obviously, you've just kept on impressing the man! Keep this up and you'll have his job before you know it!"

Bringing the cup of coffee to her mouth once more, Carmelita couldn't help but roll her eyes at the obvious attempt at brownnosing. Still, she **was** at least able to refrain from snorting as well–that would have otherwise made a mess with how close the cup was to her nose. Taking a few more sips from her beverage, the woman swallowed before replying, "And who would want it? Maybe when I'm older and it's more difficult to run around but I've still got at least a decade or two before I want to start vying for _that_ desk job!"

Now the weasel pouted a little bit. "There's nothing wrong with a desk job," he muttered under his breath. Seeing his fellow officer was staring at him curiously, the man was quick to switch subjects, "Anyway is there anything else I can do for you while I'm up, Inspector Fox?" He grinned widely, showing off all his pearly white teeth in what he felt was an award-winning smile. "I'm never too busy to do anything for you. Anything at all!"

Said toothy grin made the vixen suppress a shudder as that smile gave her the impression that Winthorp was the sort who hid bodies in the cellar and babies in the freezer. It was really putting her off of her appetite, let alone her coffee. Extending the arm out, she held the Styrofoam cup to the weasel to take from her. "No thank you. I just need to get dressed and see what the Chief wants is all." As he took the cup from her, the Hispanic vulpine requested, "Now please. Move along Detective. I need to freshen up."

His head bobbing for a moment, the purple-pelted mammal replied, "Of course..." he then waved at her with his free hand, grinning widely. "I'll be on my way!" He chirruped merrily before his free hand came behind him and grasped the handle, closing the door shut behind him as he exited the vixen's office.

Almost on gut instinct, the woman turned about on the couch. Standing on her knees, the female vulpine brought her right hand up, using two fingers to gently pry apart two of the plastic slats. Peering out into the rest of the building through the opening she made with an inquisitive gaze, the vixen watched as the weasel swirled the contents left in the Styrofoam cup for a moment... before drinking from it himself.

The woman let the blinds snap shut back into place and gagged. "Dios maldito monstruo..." she cursed as she shook her head. She was certain the weasel didn't mean anything by that–at least she sure as hell hoped he didn't–but someone really needed to have a firm talk with Withorp about his social awkwardness if not outright creeper tendencies! "I swear to God! Sometimes I really think the deck is stacked against me," she grumbled as she turned about on the couch. Now that she was sitting properly, the Latina fox bent over and picked up her boots before lifting them up and allowing one to them fall down on the cushion next to her. She then brought her right boot around, slipping her foot into it. Once she had it snug, she brought bought hands down to start clasping the buckles. "And so another day begins... ugh!" she shook her head in annoyance, upset with the skeeviness of her co-worker, her boss refusing to let up on her, at her missing boyfriend worrying her... at everything, really!

"I swear," she grumbled as she set her foot down on the floor. The woman turned her foot left and right on her ankle to make sure it was secure before she reached over for the other boot. Bringing the piece of footwear around to slide her left foot into it, the Hispanic vixen continued to complain, "There is just no rest for the weary..."

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With black umbrella adorned with patchwork repairs held above him, a rather thinly built male fox made his way through the much larger throngs of locals that crowded the street level of Zootopia's Rainforest District. The vulpine was covered in the traditional pelt of crimson fur with a creamy abdominal patch that reached up to his muzzle that was commonly associated with the red fox breed. However, he also had a distinct variation to his pelt in that the man had dark auburn fur covering his feet and hands, as well as the tips of his ears and tail. 

Thankfully for the fox, despite the dreary atmosphere that was the ever-present rainstorms–thanks to artificial rain from an advanced sprinkler system in the treetops for when genuine lousy weather wasn't in the forecast–his attire remained dry underneath the secondhand parasol. Decked out in an outfit that consisted of a bright lime-green Hawaiian shirt with darker green adornments of palm trees and leaves, a dark blue necktie with a pattern of light blue trimmed red stripes, and a pair of simple tanned slacks, the vulpine stood out from the darkened surroundings.

Coming to a stop before the base of a staircase that was designed to spiral up and around one of the tree buildings, he couldn't help but let his emerald green eyes rise up to check out the imposing height before him; topped by a canopy that hid not only the sunlight but the giant humidifiers that kept the place feeling oppressively steamy. All together, the set-up allowed the faux rain a greater coverage space. Yet no matter how many times the fox saw the familiar structure, the set-up of the apartment complex he lived at was always an unwelcoming sight, possibly more so than any building in the Nocturnal District. At least there it was just darkness that his natural night-vision could cut through. Here? It was accompanied by water that flooded the senses, made it harder to hear anything but the torrent that dropped down mercilessly, blurred the vision and made it difficult to see the definition of anything more than a few inches from the tip of one's nose, and left the building with a glistening sheen that made it seem unnatural.

"Home sweet home..." he murmured nonchalantly as he raised his right foot to the starting step and kept walking. Fortunately for him, the red fox's home was closer to the ground floor–and then some–so he only needed to make his way to the first intermediate landing. Moving beneath the overhang that gave the door some coverage from the elements, the vulpine male closed his umbrella slightly and tilted it to the side. Holding the handle firmly in his right hand while his left hand hefted the shaft, the canid male began to shake it, doing his best to clear off the excess water without splattering himself. When the parasol was dry enough, the vulpine male closed it completely and withdrew a set of keys from his right pants pocket. Flipping through the metal pieces on the ring for a moment, eventually the fox anthro found the one he needed to start with and then began flipping through the rotation.

Yes, rotation. Apparently, a door lock and a single deadbolt wasn't enough. This door had a total of **seven** locks altogether, each one needing a different key. So one after the other, the vulpine male turned keys and withdrew them until he had all the deadbolts opened. He then carefully stuck the final key into the lock of the door handle and turned it, opening the entrance to the building. He was very careful when he opened the door, moving it as slowly as he could so that he wouldn't slam it into the huge pipe he knew was against the wall space the wooden barrier would have swung up against. The fox sure as heck didn't want the bill for the plumbing charged to him again. Once was enough!

With the door opened enough for the red fox to enter, he did so... and cringed. Upon entering, he was immediately greeted to the sight of his landlord. Not that the large ursine was waiting for him, oh no. The simple fact was the sun bear practically _lived_ in the lobby of the apartment complex he ran...

And as usual, the lazy bear was hanging out in only his underwear, revealing his short, jet-black fur that had two whirl patterns on the shoulders and a crest that converged from either sides of his neck and down into the center of his chest. The overweight landlord was idly scratching his rotund abdomen with his right hand as he relaxed in his old and worn Barcalounger reclining chair, the sun bear's feet propped up on an equally worn ottoman. He had taken his glasses off to watch the television he'd set up in the lobby, the eyewear resting on his chest as it hung from the metal bead strap that went around his neck.

 _One of these days, someone has to introduce him to pants_ , the fox mentally groused as he physically fought down his revulsion at the sight. He may have occasionally worked near a naturalist club in Sahara Square but even the fox knew there were some animals that should have kept their shirts on. Still, on a positive note, it looked like the bear was really into that episode of Dr. Phil: the mustached Walrus talking to a female mongoose about her daughter that was an unwed teenage mother with a spice addiction. _I might just be able to avoid any unnecessary interaction with the guy for once_.

And so with that thought in mind, the male vulpine went into action. With the skills of an expert safe-cracker, nimble fingers carefully relocked every bolt in place–ever so slowly as to not cause a loud clacking noise of metal springing into the doorframe. Once the vulpine had the door fully secured once more, he then carefully tip-toed across the floor, passing behind the overweight ursine in hopes to not to gain the larger mammal's attention. He was doing quite well with it too, his feet coming softly upon the wooden floorboards with the sneakiness that would have impressed some of the truly nocturnal breeds of animals.

Unfortunately for the red fox, as soon as his foot came into contact with the floorboard just before the door that was the entrance to his domicile, it creaked loudly. In response, the bear jostled in his chair. "H-huh? What the hey?" The ursine murmured as he sat up in his seat. Bringing his glasses to his chubby face, the bear turned left and right, gazing about the room. Eventually, on one of his turns towards his right, he caught sight of his red fox tenant standing before the basement door. "AH! Nicholas! Just the animal I was hoping to see."

Taking a deep breath as he faced away from the bear for a moment longer, the vulpine male schooled his features into a calm appearance. He then turned about, giving the bear a massive grin. "AH! Mr. Bearenstein! How're you doing, good sir?" He then began to quickly make his way towards the larger mammal. There were a number of things Nick had learned to stay on the sun bear's good side, and a couple of those were to let him remain at rest and to always hold conversations close enough to show you weren't afraid of the man but far enough to stay out of paw's reach–usually keeping the bear's snack table between the two of them was more than enough. "There's no need to bother with me, sir! I saw you were busy with your show and felt it would have been rude to interrupt you." 

Sitting up in his chair, the ursine wasn't deterred by the fox's smooth talking. "Actually, it wouldn't have been a problem at all, Mr. Wilde..." he said in a deep guttural voice. "I just needed to talk to you about out arrangement." The tone of his voice suggested that it would have been beneficial for the fox to have a response that the bear wanted to hear from him.

"Oh dear, is this about rent?" Nick scoffed as he brought his right hand up and waved off the man in a relaxed fashion. _Never let them see you sweat_ , he mentally told himself as he spoke in a calm, charming fashion. "Well, don't you worry your pretty little head about that Mr. Bearenstein! I'll be on time as always." At the hairy eye the ursine gave him, the smaller mammal put out an air of mock outrage for comical effect. "What? Is this because I'm a fox? Come on, Mr. Bearenstein! How long have I been a tenant of yours now?" 

The overweight mammal considered that for a moment. "...Ten years..." the large sun bear surmised. "But this isn't about the money. If I thought you were just another bum of a fox that couldn't make rent, I would have kicked you out on your tail **nine** years ago." He then exhaled deeply, causing the folds of chest fat to ripple. "No, this is literally about your living conditions. You see, the Zootopia Construction and Building Inspectors drop by to check buildings in the Rainforest District around every decade or so to make sure there are no problems with any tree's foundation stability or structural integrity. They arrived while you out working earlier. To be blunt, they didn't like what they saw when they checked out the boiler room."

Despite the desire, the vulpine hustler was able to fight down his urge to cringe. He kept his poker-face smile firmly plastered across his muzzle and asked in a tone that sounded far calmer than he actually felt, "They weren't happy to hear you were turning a part of your basement into a rental property on the cheap, were they?" Crap, it looked like he was going to need to start looking into another place for low-cost rent. Is old home district was a likely choice but that meant he was likely to run across _her_. That was one thing Slick Nick would never be ready for.

Fortunately, his worries were immediately abated when Mr. Bearenstein replied, "No. I told them I was using the boiler room as an office. They suggested I move my more important documents to someplace dryer but they didn't give me any fuss about that. No, it was about the overly leaky nature of the foundation itself." He scoffed. "They're making me pay to waterproof the place: insulation and installation of more drainage grates. And that's just for the basement, let alone everything else they're making me do to this old tree!"

With that bit of news, the vulpine had perked up considerably. "Oh really now? You don't say..." Nick trailed off as a smile made its way across his face. He'd been living in such horrendous conditions since he moved in and it just got worse with time. To hear a fix was on the way was the first bit of silver lining he'd seen in the dark cloud of life in a while. "Well, that's great news!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously in delight. "Now I'll have pots and pans I can actually cook with instead of catching rain!" Yes, such was the possibly the worst aspect of living in the Rainforest District. The water was _**everywhere**_. "Thanks for the heads up, Mr. Bearenstein!" He gave the sun bear a salute with his index and middle fingers. "That made my day!"

Now a decidedly cruel smile crossed the puffy-cheeked muzzle of the nearly naked ursine. "Really? If that made your day, then the **other** bit of news is gonna break it. I need you and your stuff out of there by this weekend. I can't have you in the way of the carpenters and plumbers while they're working." His fingers rapped atop the armrest of the recliner he sat in, following a beat. "I don't need the construction contractors asking too many questions they don't need answers for. Do you read me, Wilde?"

Releasing a purposely exaggerated sigh, the red fox practically cooed to his landlord, "You don't need to worry about me, good sir. I'll make sure my personal effects are moved out well in advance, all by my little lonesome." He brought his right hand to his forehead and threw his head back in a most dramatic fashion. "It will be a far, **far** better thing that I do, than I have ever done and after I grind down my muscle with such labor it will be a far, **far** better rest that I go to than I have ever known!"

The sun bear snorted at the fox's attempt at comedy. "Cut the theatrics, Wilde. Just get your crap outta there before this weekend."

Rolling his eyes, the vulpine huckster let off a rather true sigh then, one of exasperation. "Fine," he replied as he straightened himself up. His hand pat over the front of his shirt to smooth it out as he asked, "So where am I staying in the meantime?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the overweight bear replied, "How should I know? That's your problem, Wilde. Not mine. I merely have to pay these guys to make repairs so they don't terminate my rental contracts and evict all the tenants! You're the one who needs to figure out where you can go in the meantime."

The fox twitched slightly at that. "Can't I just use one of the other apartments while they're working on the basement?" He asked honestly. "I mean, it's not like you don't have the room."

The older bear gave his tenant the hairy eyeball. "Please," he chided with a snort. "You barely meet your rent as is. You think I'm gonna trust you to make due for twenty times what you pay me now?" He barked out a laugh. "I always knew you were a comedian, Nicholas but that takes the cake!" Licking his lips at the thought of such a tasty, the sun bear couldn't help but murmur, "Mmm... cake..."

"Come on, Mr. Bearenstein," the fox pleaded with the larger predator. "Have a heart!"

The bear smirked. "Oh I do have one, Nicholas. It's why I let you stay here for only the fifty dollars a month you pay me under the table. It's **also** because of that I don't have what will really cover your tail here: a contract. So please, do try and take care of things before this Saturday or else everyone's going to be out on the streets!" He said in all seriousness before he rolled over onto his back, facing forward so he could look at the television set once more. "And that's all I have to say on the matter. So hop to it! I'm missing what Dr. Phil has to say about the state of single mothers these days!"

Watching as the ursine took off his glasses to better watch the television set, the male vulpine's shoulders sagged. Shaking his head, the fox turned away, making his way back towards the door to the basement. As he opened the door, Nick quietly whispered to himself, "There is just no rest for the weary..."

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Despite his advancing age, James Barkley could remember back when his mornings were filled with optimism, when every day held the promise of making the world a better place with a little hard work and elbow grease. These days, he would just as soon stay in bed until the clock passed the hour of noon. However, as much as he would like to ignore such, the workday beckoned him onward. Crime didn't take the holiday and neither could the Commissioner-in-Chief. He had to be as sharp as a steel trap and make best use of his time collaborating with colleagues and issuing orders to Interpol's employees and field agents.

And that included getting his ability for conscious thought and deductive reasoning up to speed. Which meant besides a strong cup of coffee, the old badger's morning ritual included reading the local paper first thing. Of course, as with any news format, whether print on a page, imagery on a television set, or text on a computer screen or phone... it was always a crapshoot for what he would be greeted with. Some days, the headline was uplifting, inspiring, or even humorous! Indeed, sometimes the good word was just that and it was more than enough to fill the mustached musteloidea with enough positivity to keep him energized throughout the day!

Sadly, more often than not though... it was a decidedly _unpleasant_ way to start his day. The in-depth coverage of some tragedy or great calamity that befell animality left the older mammal feeling anxious or even depressed. Or worse, it would give him a burgeoning sense of helplessness; not enough to affect his outward performance and duty but enough to leave him with a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that wouldn't leave until he investigated it further. That spine-tingling sensation that the world was falling apart around him... and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Setting the newspaper down on his desk, the police chief exhaled deeply. _Still_ , the badger began to think as he gazed down on the imagery of a uniformed policeman being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher as the headlines proclaimed how a dozen officers of Sûreté Nationale had been injured during a labor protest. _I can at least try and make things better for one person_.

Granted, considering what he knew about the situation he was going to throw her into, one might think him being needlessly cruel. But as the old badger knew, at times you had to be cruel to be kind. _Besides, Carmelita is a tough one. She'll handle this as well as she does anything else. She might have a rough start but she'll adapt_ , James justified to himself. He'd feel better about throwing her in the proverbial lion's den if he felt she could handle it.

A sudden knocking on his door drew the older Interpol officer's attention to the entrance of his office. He could recognize the outline of that head and hair through the glazed window on his door and he smirked. "Speak of the devil and she appears..." he chuckled to himself before calling aloud, "Who is it?"

" _Hola! It's Inspector Fox, Sir!_ " Came the lovely voice of his former protégé. " _You said you wanted to see me?_ "

"Ah yes, if it isn't Carmelita! Do come in!" He called aloud towards the door. As soon as the wooden barrier slowly opened, he offered the woman a small, caring smile. "Please, Inspector. Close the door behind you and have a seat." The portly badger waved to the chair in front of his immense desk with his free hand; the other still grasping onto a cup of coffee.

"What can I do for you?" Carmelita asked, hoping it wasn't something that would take too long. She did need to get clocked in for the day officially so she could hit the streets. Those gangbangers and conmen weren't going to arrest themselves!

Taking a deep breath, the badger knew this was it. The moment of truth. "Well..." 

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Outside, the sun was rising upon France's fabled City of Lights; the start of another glorious morning. The birds were chirping, the animal citizenry were milling about on their business, and...

" _ **YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT!?**_ "

...Someone was yelling loud enough to set off a quartet of car alarms as a result.

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Bringing his hand to the side of his head, James rubbed his ear. He blinked his eyes a few times, shaking his noggin to clear his senses and get the ringing to stop. _Damn, she can_ _ **really**_ _yell if she wants to_ , he thought glumly. Eyes darting about to look for damage from that outburst, he would have sworn that some of the windows were now cracked from her yell. Finally though, he managed to reply verbally, "...I take it you've been working out your vocal chords for that one?"

Realizing she just started to chew her boss' head off, the vixen was filled with a sudden sense of dread. "Ah..." Carmelita blushed and looked down. "I-I'm sorry, Chief. I don't know where that came from..." she bit her lower lip for a moment, trying to calm herself down. Finally, she began speaking again, far calmer this time. "But still... you want me to do **what** now?" She hissed, unable to believe what the badger had just told her.

The older mammal sighed as he gazed over to the profusely blushing Latina vulpine. "What I said, Officer Fox is I that I need you to pack up and head over to America. For the next six months, you are going to be part of a special program and work as a beat cop."

"Wuh-why!?" The vixen demanded to know. "I thought I was doing so well! You even told me the other day you were proud with my efforts!" She brought her right hand up to her face, index and middle fingers at the center of her forehead while her thumb and ring finger rubbed just beneath her eyes. "I just don't understand why you would try and tear me away from my work while I have everything under control! Hasn't the crime rate plummeted since I actively took to the streets of Paris!?"

"The answer is very simple actually," the mustached badger began in all seriousness. "But first, there's something I need to know..." he paused, making certain he had the woman's attention. "Tell me, Inspector Fox: what do you know about the city-state of, 'Zootopia'?"

The Hispanic vulpine blinked her eyes once, twice, _thrice_. "You mean those liberal hippies that would try to vote a disabled rodent whose only platform is being openly homosexual into office over a proven lion candidate rather than worry about genuine crime and actually arresting real criminals?" Carmelita asked dryly.

It was an inquiry that got the canid woman a nod of confirmation in response from her superior officer. "Ah... yeah, that..." the pudgy musteloidea sighed as he considered her words. "That actually sounds about accurate." He then did his best to school his features into a smile for his protégé's benefit. "Well... congratulations, Inspector Fox! You're moving there!"

The red fox's left ear twitched erratically above her navy blue tresses. "...I'm not going to like the story behind this, am I?" Came the woman's rather blunt response.

Taking a deep breath, the overweight badger sighed as he sat up in his chair. "Carmelita, please!" The man tried to reason with his subordinate... who was being anything but.

"Oh no!" She snapped as she practically leapt out of her seat and stepped forward, standing taller before the mustached officer's desk. "Don't give me that!" Placing a finger down on his desk, she continued, "I am needed _here_! Now, I know I'm one of your most experienced internationally-versed officers but you want to send me to hunker down in a city that's more walled off than the Vatican!?" Her brown eyes narrowed, meeting the stare of her boss. "What in hell makes you think would I even agree to this!?"

Bringing both hands before him, the portly Commissioner-in-Chief reclined his chair back a bit. "Officer Fox, trust me when I say my reasons are genuine. Please, take a seat and I will gladly continue. Now then, I need you to be calm and speak only when spoken to for the time being." At the now surprised expression that crossed her face, he smiled. "I know, I know. I normally let you speak your mind but please, humor me _a little_. I am your boss after all."

Her shoulders sagging slightly at that, the Latina beauty took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. "Sorry Chief..." she apologized with a repentant tone to her voice. Making her way back to one of the two chairs in front of the older animal's desk, the vulpine settled herself down into it, the motions making the navy blue tresses the framed her face bounce a little bit. Sitting down in the chair, the woman straightened up and looked back at him with rapt attention.

Nodding his head as the woman seemed to be taking things civilly for the moment, James proceeded to explain, "My reasoning is threefold, Officer Fox. The first is that an old friend of mine is in need to help. Because of Zootopia's mayor... well, to the point: he's going to need not only my best officer but the one most appropriate for the job."

It was that last bit that caught the Inspector's attention. "Appropriate?" She asked in confusion.

The portly musteloidea nodded his head in affirmation. "Yes. You see, my dear Officer... the city wasn't always so..." he trailed off, needing to find a way to politely put it. "Shall we say... _accepting_ of other species. Even to this day, there are still major issues to be had, which is part of the reason why, of all my agents, I need you to go. Mayor Lionheart is trying to help assuage the relationships between the species and apparently he's going to put some of the animals that have been oppressed through the Zootopia Police Academy to become officers."

The woman frowned as she considered what her boss was telling her. While such sounded like a lofty and noble goal, something wasn't adding up. "But that takes months. Even if they started fast-tracking animals through training, they're looking at half... a... year..." Carmelita trailed off as she realized _**why**_ she was being sent there for six months. "Asi que es por eso..." she murmured with disbelief in her native tongue.

Nodding his head as he saw recognition dawning in her eyes, James told the vixen, "You always were the sharpest tool in the shed, Inspector." He couldn't help but chuckle softly at her awed expression. "But yes. I want you to do this for my friend. It shouldn't be _too_ much trouble for you and I believe you'll find it a nice change of pace compared to your more recent endeavors."

Meeting the hopeful expression of her superior officer, the woman... frowned sadly. "Chief," she began with his title to show respect... before she had to try and argue. "I appreciate the confidence you have in me and I understand that this is a friend of yours you wish to offer assistance. But I don't understand why you need _me_ in particular." She managed a nervous smile. "There are other species here that fit the bill. Can't you just send Detective Winthorp?" She asked hopefully. "With how calm and demure he is, he's sure to defy expectations." The Hispanic vulpine just hoped he didn't do anything to creep out the female officers there.

The badger sighed... ironically, in a bit of relief. He would gladly take her reluctance over the flat-out refusal he was expecting her to blow up with. "I understand how you feel Inspector, but this will really help an old war buddy of mine..." he said in all honesty.

Needless to say, **that** caught Carmelita's attention. "War buddy?" She asked quietly. "You fought in a war?"

The mustached musteloidea have the younger woman a nod of his head. "Quite. It was back in 1991, when you were... maybe six-years-old?" He offered curiously, the man slightly flush with embarrassment as he was letting on just how old _he_ was. "I was in the Middle East fighting on behalf of Saddle Arabia as part of Operation Granby."

The answer she got made the woman tilt her head, the vulpine woman staring at him in curiosity. "...Operation Granby?" She queried, the phrase not ringing any bells or raising memories for her. "What was Operation Granby?"

Releasing a sigh, the man shook his head. "I'm not surprised you never heard of it. Most of the world knows it better as, 'Operation Desert Storm'." He snorted. "Operation Granby was the code-name given to British military operations during the Gulf War. We were fifty-three thousand troops strong, deployed to give aid to our American allies during Operation Desert Shield. As part of the British Secret Intelligence Service, I was one of the fine animals in charge of the First Armored Division. We were tasked with giving aid to the ZSA's Bulldozer Assault; whereas they charged in head on, we took a gigantic left-hook to outflank the Iraqi forces. Our plow-mounted British Challenger tanks destroyed upwards of three hundred Iraqi vehicles during the ground phase of the war, stranding a lot of the enemy forces where they were and forcing them to surrender."

"Unfortunately," the portly badger sighed as he continued. "A lot of innocent people died in that assault." He started to reach for his cigar but stopped at the look the red fox was giving him. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the man settled back into his chair. "And when I say innocents, what I mean is child-soldiers." He felt a little proud at the look of proper horror that came over Carmelita's face. "One evening I happened to meet a cape buffalo, one Second Lieutenant Idriis 'Big Driis' M'Bogo... he was stationed on patrol during one of our joint ZS-Britain staff meeting." A frown adorned James muzzle. "When I discovered the young man, he was holding an M9 to his head ready to blow his brains out."

"I... can't say I'm surprised," Carmelita said softly. She couldn't argue that the very thought of killing children would have made her want kill herself right then and there if she had done it. "I'm guessing that something stopped him?"

James nodded his head firmly. "Yes. I did," he said seriously.

Looking over her boss, Carmelita couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. "I..." she blushed slightly. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?" At the older man's nod, the Hispanic woman continued, "Forgive me for saying, Chief... but I cannot envision you stopping a big ol' African buffalo from doing anything he doesn't want to."

"Exactly so," the older badger agreed. "At best, I was only able to shake his leg to get his attention... M'Bogo stopped because he burst out with laughter at the sight. Told me that I looked like I was trying to hump him." He smirked a little as he saw a smile tug at the corners of Carmelita's lips–a rare sight as of late. "I spent some time talking him down after that and we ended up becoming good friends afterwards. Since then we have kept in touch, albeit his current job has made the past few years difficult for him to do so until today."

The woman raised a navy-blue eyebrow in curiosity. "His job?"

Smiling, the older mustached mammal replied, "Chief of the Zootopia Police Department. Yes, M'Bogo certainly went up in the world. He left the military because of the responsibilities such a duty entailed, but he was still a very responsible, lawful herbivore. His successful military career made it easier for him to get into law enforcement as a war hero, and he climbed the ranks the honest way: hard work. He's an animal with a rare disposition in this day and age and deserves a modicum of respect."

The vixen nodded her head slowly as she considered that. She always held respect for honest cops. If what American television said was to be believed, then they were harder to find Stateside these days.

"Why," James went on to continue to praise the buffalo. "He's the one who pushed to get the ZPD to start accepting predators in greater numbers nearly twenty years back!" The badger chirruped. "He fought with them side-by-side and was able to use his influence and newfound municipal power to give them their first big push into lawful administrative positions."

Hearing that, the vixen felt she'd heard more than enough of the Zootopian police chief to form an idea about the kind of man he was–a good one. So before her boss could continue to talk her ear off about the, 'good old days' the Latina woman spoke up, "Okay, I understand that you two have some major history together. But **what** does that have to do with _me_ going over there? And I mean _besides_ the obvious." Carmelita suspected something was up. There had to be more to it than simply wanting to help a friend out. Though that would be reason enough for most people, when politics were involved it could be anything _**but**_.

"And that, my dear Inspector... is why you're the best," James admitted, knowing she figured out that there was more to it than he was letting on. "Besides the whole aspect of minority groups, apparently the fact that you're a foreigner and a female is supposed to help drum up goodwill among Zootopia's citizens, to show them the police force and their duly-elected mayor genuinely care about the people and their welfare no matter what their backgrounds are."

Both of them snorted at that. The pair of Interpol officers knew from personal experience that politicians–for the most part–didn't care about the average citizen's wellbeing. Finally though, it was the Hispanic vulpine who finally admitted, "Well... I _suppose_ that is one way to keep everyone from being angry at them if things go sour." After all, that way they could say it wasn't their fault, but another nation's... specifically **hers**. _Yep_ , she thought bitterly. _The Great American pastime at its finest... passing the blame!_

The male musteloidea nodded his head in agreement. "It can't be helped. Despite being on American soil, Zootopia is a city-state; a sovereign state that consists of city districts and dependent territories. As such, they can get away with certain political eccentricities." Taking a deep breath, the old badger murmured, "Only a handful of these sovereign nations exist, such as Singapore, Vatican City, and even Monaco here in France... but trust me when I tell you that of all of them, Zootopia is both at the forefront AND dead last."

Needless to say, that warning made the Hispanic vixen frown. "Dead last?" She parroted, hopeful her boss would elaborate on that for her benefit.

James surprised his protégé by suddenly switching gears. "Tell me first, Inspector Fox... just what do you know about the Zoonited States' Civil Rights Movement?"

Blinking her eyes once, twice, Carmelita gave the man an incredulous stare. Seeing the dead-serious expression on his face, the woman realized he meant business. Taking a moment to try and gather her thoughts, the woman explained, to the best of what she could drum up on such short notice, "Well, from what I understand... it was to be the end of Species segregation, to put a stop to the disenfranchisement and exploitation of the various predator animals. It's often associated with starting off with Rosa Barks and her Montgomery bus boycott and being seen through thanks to the efforts of Civil Rights leader Dr. Martin Leopard King Jr., Sir. But that's simply basic history right there."

"There's more to it than that, my dear Inspector Fox... a darker history..." the badger snorted in disgust. "While most of the Zoonited States were going through that great time of change over a course of years from the mid-Fifties to the late Sixties with the predators' sit-ins, freedom rides, and peaceful protest marches, the City-State of Zootopia decided to be the forefront of what they considered 'progress'... which only ended up making it worse for everyone there." The Interpol Chief reclined back into his cushioned seat and sighed. "They ended 'segregation' on August 15th, 1954 to coincide with the predators' week-long End of Summer Festival. Such great news caused the festivities to last a solid two weeks that year. Hell, if you look at the pictures and history books, you'll see it's a beautiful sight... predators and prey dancing in the streets, laughing and drinking together, hugging and kissing like long-lost lovers... you would think it was the beginning of a whole new era!" A sad gleam shone in the old badger's eyes. "Sadly, despite how badly Zootopia would want the world to believe it... that is **not** the full story."

Reaching for the cigar he had in his ashtray, the older badger took a puff of it. He knew Carmelita hated him smoking indoors, _especially_ with her in the room, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment... because he needed something to calm his nerves if he was to share what he needed to tell her. "And then on August 30th, a _mere day_ after the festivities ended... came the **shock collars**."

The vixen with navy blue tresses rose straight up in her seat, her brown eyes going wide as she stared at her boss in surprise. "Que!?" She queried in her native tongue, having been taken so off-guard by _THAT_ statement.

The man merely looked at the cigar in his hand for a moment before he could finally answer her. "Oh yes..." James said in a tone of voice that was all business. "While the rest of the country's predator population was doing its best to make their plight and presence known to earn their much-deserved integration with the prey majority population, Zootopia gave its predator residents the modern equivalent of a noose and enough rope to hang themselves with under the guise of progressiveness." He snorted in obvious disgust. "The Zootopian government believed they couldn't trust their predators... that their, 'natural instincts' would cause them to attack the prey citizenry and it would result all-out anarchy. So from the age of five-years-old and upward, every member of every predator species in Zootopia had to wear a collar that would give them an electric shock... a device that would Taser them into submission whenever their vitals rose past what the collar's monitor allowed, no matter what the reason was."

Her hands gripping the armrests of her chair, Carmelita twitched in irritation at the injustice of it all. Oh, she could already envision how THAT could have turned out, even in the best of circumstances. "That's completely _asinine_!" The vulpine officer snapped angrily. "What kind of witless morons thought _**that**_ would be a good idea!? No, wait, scratch that!" She shook her head. "What kind of _specist_ morons couldn't see that something like the collars would end up making things worse!?"

"Exactly," Chief Barkley agreed. "So while during the 1970's the majority of the Zoonited States saw real integration of predators into jobs and positions once traditionally held by the prey and herbivores species thanks to things like Affirmative Action... in Zootopia, that didn't happen until around '89, a good **twenty years after the fact**!" He snapped irritably for emphasis. "It only finally started to end when communication became a far easier thing to accomplish among the common animal. With the world becoming a smaller place thanks to technology, the locals were learning what the rest of the country, if not world was like... and we were learning the crimes against animality that were still going on in that small corner of Washington state."

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the badger merely looked into inquisitive gaze of the woman sitting across from him. "Needless to say, the Zootopia city council was pretty quick to flip the script before the ZSA government started sending troop involvement to take them down like the freaking fascist cult they were..." he snorted. "They only managed to survive THAT by the skin of their teeth. A lot of the former sheep politicians ended up stepping down and new elections were held... elections that got a surprising number of predator civil rights leaders into office." He chuckled at the irony of it all. "All under the delightful bumper sticker slogan of, 'Zootopia: Where Anyone Can Be Anything!' or some crock of shit like that."

Slowly, the vixen took all of the information in. It was so much to do so but things were starting to make sense to her, particularly Barkley's insistence of her going. Still, there were things she needed to know. "So let me guess..." she began slowly, making sure she had the older badger's attention. "Even though they have been forced to suddenly adapt to a modern world... it's left a schism..." she frowned more at the nod of her boss' head. "So even though they're working together and their society becoming more of a mixed bag like everywhere has helped things along... old sentiments die hard and there's a lot of lingering resentment."

"Exactly," the old badger replied. "There is still an unspoken species divide and it's gotten worse in different ways," he admitted. "Now with predators holding positions of power, the general attitude of Zootopia has become more, 'survival of the fittest' atop of the already ingrained disposition against carnivorous animals! Now you have lesser animals on both sides that are at the bottom of the food chain getting used and abused by the system. Rabbits, sheep, domestic breeds of canines and felines, various rodent breeds, skunks, raccoons... **foxes**..." he said that last one rather pointedly.

"...Dios omnipotente..." Carmelita groaned as the final pieces fell into place for her. "I'm being set up as a sacrificial fish, aren't I?" Granted, she would have preferred to go by the proper saying and use the term, 'lamb' but that would have been very specist... and Zootopia was doing more than enough of that!

"Yes... and no." The badger shook his head at the confused look on the woman's face. "While it's true that this is a bit of a publicity stunt, it may actually end up helping relations out. _Especially_ if someone from the, 'bottom feeder' crowd proves themselves to be more capable than the supposed cream of the crop." He smirked at her. "I have complete faith in you, Carmelita. I know you'll do greater than they could ever expect you to do."

The woman blushed through her red facial fur, still not used to receiving praise of this level from her boss. "Frankly, sir..." the vulpine officer sighed. "I'm not sure about all of this. You're asking me to leave my home, my work, move to another country, work with their police force until the new recruits can get settled in... all because you want to help out a friend?"

"Yes." He nodded at her explanation. "But more than that, Carmelita. I think you could do a lot of good over there. Look at what you've done around here so far!" The portly musteloidea could see that she wasn't convinced yet, so he thought to add something that might sweeten the deal for her. "Carm, I promise you. You do this for me and when it's over, I'll let you have a vacation."

Hearing that, the vixen raised one of her navy blue eyebrow so far it went up into her hairline. "Really? But you **never** let me have a vacation." Sure, she got days off but the woman never had any lengthy stay of leave before.

The badger met her chocolate eyes with his own deep brown gaze. "Do this and you'll more than earn one. I'll give you a month off, full pay. That will give you a chance to go home to Spain for a while to see your folks and get the time needed to decompress from the mission." Left unsaid was that she would _need_ it.

The woman stared at her superior with an incredulous expression. That was tempting... so very tempting. She remembered how many times Sly tried to get her a vacation only... to...

Feeling a clench in her heart, the Hispanic vulpine officer cringed. It felt like a ball of lead just dropped into her stomach and was laying there. "I..." she started, only to hear her voice cracking as her throat tightened up. She brought her left hand up to her face and coughed into her fist in effort to clear it. "I'm sorry, Chief," she managed in a much calmer demeanor. "But I really can't accept this. I understand you want me to do good by..."

The man held his hand up in a motion for her to desist. "That," he began in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Is my third reason for wanting you to go to the States." He made sure to meet the red fox's gaze with his own as he told her, "I know what you've been doing off the clock, Carm. I've seen the records you keep, which includes you checking out if not outright commandeering Interpol's equipment. I know you've been performing a private investigation into the whereabouts of Sargent Cooper but you have to face facts, Inspector Fox... he's gone."

Upon hearing that, the vixen felt her ire begin to rise. Clenching her teeth to keep from saying something she might regret the woman inhaled deeply... before telling her boss exactly how she felt. "If you really think Sly would die to something like that, then you Chief are–pardon my Spanish..." she took a deep breath before screaming, "COMPLETAMENTE MURCIÉLAGO-MIERDA LOCO!"

The Commissioner-in-Chief for the Paris Branch of the Interpol Offices sighed. "Carmelita," he spoke her first name in full, trying to show he was on her side but that he had to be serious. "We've lost a lot of good men and women to similar circumstances. It's not something we're ever prepared for when it happens but we all joined the line of duty, knowing full well that it's a possibility that either we or our compatriots won't come home. You've been investigating for two months now and... to be frank, I've seen your files. Your daily report increments are getting sparser and sparser. I allowed you to sink yourself into your work to help you cope but at this point, you're going to start hurting yourself. And soon? That could hurt others as well."

The red fox gawked at what her boss was saying. "Sir, I am not—"

"When was the last time you actually spent any considerable time at your home, Carmelita?" Barkley asked her point-blank. "When was the last time you went back to your apartment to check your mail? To clear out your fridge? To get some good sleep in a real bed? To do some laundry? To take a bloody _shower_?"

Crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant stance, the woman responded, "I'll have you know the building has a decent shower set-up in the women's locker roo—"

"Stop evading the question and give me a Goddamn answer!" The badger snapped firmly, interrupting the woman's attempt to go off onto a tangent.

Her lips tugging into a frowned, the vixen lowered her head slightly, unable to meet her boss' stern gaze. "Uh... about two weeks..." she murmured. And that was the conservative guess.

The mustached mammal just stared at the woman. "You see? That, Carmelita, is why I'm telling you to go home, and I mean right now. Get some real sleep and then get your affairs in order. You're going to be on a plane by this weekend at the latest."

Hearing the finality of his voice seemed to drive the hammer home. "...I don't have a choice, do I?" She whispered. Slowly looking up at the badger, she sighed when he merely shook his head in response. "Damn it! I can't leave! I swear to you, Chief! Sly is still alive!"

"Even if he was, he's nowhere around here." Bringing a hand up to his face, the man rubbed his chin in thought. He needed to do something to ease the doubt in her mind...

Fortunately for the old badger, an idea came to the Interpol Commissioner. "I'll tell you what, Inspector. I'll put a notice up for all field agents. If there's any hint of Sargent Cooper's whereabouts anywhere in the world, they'll inform me so _I_ can let _you_ know." Granted, he knew playing into such wasn't the best for her mental health, but if it gave the woman some peace of mind so she could do her job, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Hope was a powerful thing, after all. "I promise I'll have people keeping an eye out, okay?"

The vixen looked at him, her brown eyes practically pleading for the man to reconsider. "Please Chief... I know you are having your doubts about me but you can't be so critical with me about this, about Zootopia. If I leave now... if I drop everything I'm doing? Then I might not find Sly ever again."

Sighing, mustached mammal did his best to give her a reassuring smile. "Don't feel that way, Inspector. Criticism may not be agreeable but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the animal body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things."

The woman gave him an incredulous expression as she considered what the badger said. "More Winston Churchill?" She asked curiously. As the older mustached male nodded his head, the vulpine woman's shoulders sagged. "You've been quoting that old bulldog to me since I was in the Academy."

"Because his words of wisdom remain relevant to this day," was the portly badger's soft-spoken response. Considering things for a moment, the old musteloidea got up from his chair and came around his desk. Coming up to the vixen's side, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Carmelita... when I chose you for Interpol, it was for a reason. There is integrity in you that I find genuinely rare in people in this modern era. I understand that to you it feels like you're compromising your ideals with the prospect of having to leave things behind, but can you really say you want to chase ghosts when there are real animals out there who need your help... predators and prey who still suffering under the specter of ol' Jim Crow?"

The Latina vulpine officer sighed. She did see his point, really she did... but she didn't want to go. The thought of doing so practically hurt to a physical degree. So once more, she tried to argue with him. "Can you really say that he's dead? There was never a body found."

Internally, James could admit such was something that had crossed his mind from time-to-time, in his private moments of wishful thinking. "And that is the only reason I'm even willing to ask the departments on your behalf to keep their eyes open for anything concerning Sargent Cooper."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, the vixen bringing a hand to her face to fight tears she could feel threatening to start. _I'm sorry, Sly... but he's right. Damn this old badger_...

The older mammal looked at his protégé with a curious expression, his right hand still rubbing her left shoulder. "Carmelita?" He said her name softly.

Finally, the woman opened her eyes. "A la mierda..." she cursed irritably. "Fine. You win, Chief. I'll take the assignment and park my ass down in a specist paradise posing as a hippy commune for six months. Happy!?" She spat out bitterly.

Nodding his head, the badger heartily replied, "Very." Releasing her shoulder to allow her to stand, the portly mustached mammal told her, "And I'm serious now. Go home and get some real sleep; it'll do you a world of good. I'll give you a call later this evening with more information. We'll get your affairs settled on both sides of the Atlantic so you can do what's needed." As she stood, the badger saluted her. "I have full faith in you, Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox. You'll knock the pants off of them."

"I'd rather not." Then despite her weariness, the woman managed to smile before joking, "Who knows what I'll see?" She returned the saluted before she turned about. Making her way to the door, the vixen walked out of Barkley's office.

Sighing as the woman closed the door behind her upon exiting, the portly badger brought a hand to his face, rubbing his tired eyes. _Well, that could have gone worse_.

It was at that point the reverberations from the vixen's earlier scream took full effect; several windows broke in sync in a complete domino effect. Papers began to flutter on Barkley's desk as his room was subject to the early morning breeze from outside while the floor along the wall twinkled and glittered as sunlight shimmered on the shards of glass.

Lowering his hand, the Commissioner-in-Chief looked about at the destruction before sighing heavily. "I need to get some replacement windows in here," he muttered irritably, hoping he could commandeer some of that seventy-eight million Euro annual budget to fix the mess.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting atop an old wooden desk, Nick held a Samsung Galaxy S5 phone to the right side of his head, avoiding the dripping of the water that was going on all around him, filling bowls, pots, and pans. "Awww, come on, pal..." the male fox cooed into his cell phone. "Have a heart and give your buddy a hand with moving his stuff."

A firm baritone tremor spoke through the cell phone's receiver. " _You kidding me, Wilde?_ " The voice queried irritably. " _You want me to help you move furniture and store it until further notice? Me? Keeping it is one thing but come on, my mammal! You're bigger than I am for cryin' out loud!_ "

"That... is true!" The male vulpine heartily agreed. "However, you're the one with a van. So give your business partner a hand, Finnick... otherwise we're easily going to lose a day of hustling! Do you really want to lose out on a couple hundred dollars?"

A growl was heard over the line. " _I keep telling you, Wilde! I don't have the room for all your junk. The van isn't only my business but my home! And you're gonna be out of yours for God knows how long!_ "

"Only a couple of weeks at best..." the sly fox replied to his fellow vulpine compatriot over the phone. "Sure, a month at worst but that's only the worst case scenario. And hey! Think of it this way," he chirruped. "With my stuff there, we could hustle nearly twenty-four/seven! Imagine how much money we'd pull in during that time!"

" _And I can barely stand being around you for a few hours at time as it is_ ," the voice replied irritably. " _I promise you, if we end up living together you'll be dead within two days and the authorities will find your body in a gutter_."

Cringing slightly at the blunt honesty of his compatriot of con-artistry, all Nick could reply was, "Oh Finnick-pooh... how you warm the cockles of my heart!"

" _Ugh. The less I know about your cockles, the better!_ " the burly voice replied. A sigh was heard over the phone. " _Listen: if things were different, then sure... I'd consider letting you use my van. But I don't have anything else, okay? That van is my livelihood!_ "

The crimson-pelted fox twitched in anxiousness. He really needed some help with this situation. "Fine, I get it. But you're one of the few people who could help me with this, unless you happen to know someone else with a van..." he suggested meaningfully. "Besides, I'd owe you one."

A deep laugh chortled over the phone. " _Please! Anyone I know with a van sure as hell wouldn't help you out of the goodness of their hearts. I would need to call in too many of my favors to get them to do it_." After a moment, the man known as Finnick added, " _Really, this is your own fault. You should have been saving some of your money all this time. You could have at least had what you needed to stay at a Motel Six however long it took!_ "

Nick inhaled quickly through his nose before deeply exhaling out his mouth. The little guy had a point but that money was needed for more important things than collecting interest in a bank or dust under a mattress. "Okay, fine. Do you have any ideas, smart guy?"

The voice on the other end of the line was silent for a while, the only sound the vulpine heard being the drip-drop of water from pipes and wooden fixtures all around him. Finally, his buddy came on the line again. " _You know, you could_ _ **always**_ _ask Honey to put you up for a bit. You know how much she cares about you, Nick. Hell, I think she'd actually be glad to do it!_ "

That suggestion made the red fox cringe. "Look, Finnick... I'm not going to lie. That probably _is_ the best bet... but I can't. **She** knows about Honey and stays in contact with her. I care about both of them and as much as I know the badger appreciates my presence I..." the male vulpine sighed. "I just can't see Francine again... not yet anyway..." he trailed off rather glumly.

" _You can't keep running from your past, Wilde_ ," the deep baritone voice told him firmly. " _I mean, so what if she goes and visits Honey now and again too? It gives you a nice neutral setting to try and patch things up with your ma. Is that really so bad?_ "

"It is when mama finding out you're a hustler and the money she gets every week comes from a less than reputable sources would break her heart..." the red fox answered sadly.

Silence reigned for a moment before the smaller mammal spoke up with a voice that belonged to an animal ten times the source's size. " _So_ _ **what**_ _are you going to do?_ "

"Well, if _someone_ would help me out, I could get this done quickly..." the red fox hustler replied as he reached his hand out to the side and pushed a pot closer to the source of the leak coming in from the ceiling... just one of **many** leaks.

Finnick's snort could be heard. " _Again, I can't help you there. But I SUPPOSE I do owe you for helping me out with the time those zebras broke in my van's windows. So, tell you what. I'll make some calls and see if I can't get someone to put you... or at least your stuff... up for a couple of weeks. Okay? If I don't tell you anything in a few days, don't bother asking. Just means no one was willing to help_."

And with that small glimmer of hope, Nick was grinning from ear-to-ear. "That's my buddy! I knew I could count on you!"

" _Still, you should at least talk to Honey about housing your crap for you_ ," Finnick told him. " _In all seriousness, that way you only have to worry about finding a roof for your head_."

That managed to catch the usually sly red fox off guard. Considering it for a moment, the mammal eventually nodded his head–even if his fennec partner-in-crime couldn't see the motion. "You have a point there, at least. All right. Tomorrow after our next pawpsicle gig, I'll take a walk over to Honey's and ask her about housing my furniture for me. Sound good?"

" _Sounds great! One less problem for me to deal with_ ," the deep voice that belonged to an admittedly tiny vulpine sounded out pleasantly.

Smirking rather deviously, Nick was quick to add, "Of course, since you don't have to house my furniture for me, that means there shouldn't be any problem with you just helping drive my stuff over to her place, would there?"

" _Oh for the love of_..." there was a menacing growl over the line. " _FINE! I'll help you move your fucking crap but you owe me, Wilde!_ "

Nodding his head in understanding, the seasoned hustler replied in a most cheery voice, "No problem! I'll make sure you get an extra ten-percent cut tomorrow. How's that sound for your time and effort, little buddy?"

There was a pause, as the vulpine on the other line considered it. "... _Sounds fine... and stop calling me_ _ **LITTLE!**_ "

A chuckle reverberated in the red fox's chest. "Right. See you tomorrow, Finnick. You can pick me up at our usual spot. Later!" He then slid his thumb over the screen panel of his phone, cutting the connection. He released a sigh that seemed to exude his long suffering as he looked out into his home... the apartment complex's boiler room.

The basement wasn't all that big when it came to actual living-space thanks to the numerous pipes overhead; most of the larger ones that crossed over the Western wall were barely higher than his head! The Southern wall had lots of smaller pipes, many of said metal lubes profusely leaking and so he had placed pots and pans under the dripping water so that he didn't have a completely soaked floor to walk over in the morning–the solitary drain grate in the floor wasn't enough to keep up with the torrent. Under the largest pipes was a three-drawer desk he currently sat on, a bit of cloth sticking out of the middle drawer. Nick also had a small wood dresser with a digital clock on top of it set to the right of the workspace. Behind that was a portion of wallpaper pattern that came from his home while growing up covered the wall to give him some piece of mind. For his clothing, he had jacket hanging under one of the pipes on a clothes hanger towards the corner of the room. And finally, a ways off from his desk, he had a suitcase full of various knickknacks he used on his gigs while above that to keep it dry, on one of the pipes, was a plant on top of a towel to catch the water there and stop any dripping.

Yes, despite such dank and cramped conditions of the boiler room, Nicholas P. Wilde managed to make something of a home for himself.

 _Now if only there was sunlight down here_ , the foxy conman thought a bit sadly. Not that one could even hope get much in the Rainforest District outside of the scheduled dawn, afternoon, and sunset clearings but the experienced hustler would take what he could get.

Sighing, the vulpine could only look at his situation and tell himself, "At least when I return, it's going to be a lot dryer." He shook his head as he slid off from the desk he'd been sitting atop of, the fox mindful not to slam his scalp against one of the pipes... _again_. Taking a moment to plug the end of the battery charger's chord into his phone before letting it rest atop the cabinet with his clock, the red-furred mammal then made across the cold concrete floor, being careful not to step in any of the pots or pans as he did. The male vulpine ended up by the section where he had his jacket and tie hanging before he began to unbutton his shirt. Once he had, Nick's hands came down to his pants, unbuttoning the slacks and unzipping the fly. Stepping out of them, he folded them nicely and grabbed the second hanger resting on the pipe with the one holding his jacket with his free hand. He then slid the pants onto the bar of the hanger and returned it to where it had been on the pipe he was using as a rack before sliding off his green shirt.

With that garment then wrapped in place over the second hanger with the pants, the red fox, now clad in only his white and blue-striped boxers made his way back to the desk. Grasping the middle drawer, he pulled it out fully, revealing the pillow inside which acted as a mattress. Carefully climbing up onto it, Nick curled up in a rather feline fashion. His hand reached out to the digital clock atop the hamper cabinet, smacking the button atop to set it for seven am.

"Another day, another dollar," the vulpine conman murmured as he withdrew his arms back into the safety of his drawer bed as he settled down for sleep. For better or worse, tomorrow would be another day in Zootopia.

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 **Author's Notes** : If it seems as though I'm likening a lot of what happened to the predators with Civil Rights, one can blame YoutTube personality MatPat and his Zootopia Film Theory episode. The man gets a person thinking outside the box. 

But hey! At least now Nick's been introduced to the story! Mr. Nicholas P. Wilde likely won't have a part to play next chapter but fear not, dear readers! He will be a major part of the story. I just need to build up and get to the point of it...

A Fox Point.


	3. The Road to Zootopia

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Special Note: The portion of this chapter with Spanish dialogue will have English translations under the Author's Notes section at the end.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 3: The Road to Zootopia... 

It had taken Carmelita eleven hours in air travel to get from the Roissy-Charles de Gaulle International in Paris, France to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport in Seattle, Washington... and that wasn't including the stops that the red fox had to take along the way! With the layovers and plane changes at the JFK on the East coast of the Zoonited States and then the Chicago O'Hare by the Great Lakes, that bumped up the travel time to a solid fourteen hours for Inspector Fox! She'd managed to catch some sleep here and there inflight, but nothing more than an hour at a time. She was used to pushing herself for her work, but even the vixen was surprised by how exhausted the whole ordeal was leaving her. There was no denying that the lack of a regular sleep schedule combined with the jet lag was starting to hit her _hard_.

But she couldn't rest yet as even exiting from the airport, the vixen still wasn't anywhere close to her final destination! Zootopia, for all its frequently touted progress, only had a regional airport for city use; there was no coming in or out of the city via air travel. Hence, the Hispanic vulpine was going to be stuck on a bus for the next half hour or so. However, even that ride wouldn't bring Carmelita to her destination, oh no! She wasn't up for what would amount to a five hour bus-ride, especially when she could grab an hour-long train ride that went directly to and from Zootopia and one of its remaining dependent territories, Bunnyburrow.

And apparently, she wasn't the only one with the idea to use the train to reach the fabled City-State. There were numerous animals that lined up one after another, the group being slowly loaded into the BeeLine Tours shuttle; its roll-sign set to, 'Bunnyburrow' while either side of the vehicle was plastered with colorful Zootopia advertisements. The group of mammals gathered was an incredibly varied sort, including farmers in denim and t-shirts, starchy white-and-blue uniformed cheerleaders in miniskirts ready to come home from an out-of-state rally or game, pressed-suit yuppies returning to either home or work after their business affairs were finished, and other animals from all walks of life, all wanting to get either get back home, visit a destination, or enjoy a vacation amongst other things.

It was one very fatigued Carmelita Montoya Fox that stood among this throng of mammals. Fortunately, no one said or did anything with her as it was one of those rare occasions she got to actually travel out of uniform. While still an Interpol police officer, the woman wasn't an acting one at the moment. That fact combined with her jurisdiction switching over to Zootopia upon checking in, meant it was all right to go in plain clothes. Still, while it was undeniable the white blouse, blue denim jeans, and the new pair of white Nike sneakers all looked very nice on the vixen... the outfit looked **completely** out of place on the woman to those who knew her.

Such had been part of Carmelita's point for dressing that way.

The navy blue-tressed woman didn't want to stand out nor look the part of a member of law enforcement. The Latina vulpine wanted to see for herself if what Bentley told her was true. At least if it turned out things were just as bad as the turtle believed, then it was a good thing Carm still had her Interpol badge in her satchel. She would be able to withdraw it as needed to diffuse any situations. Hopefully any trouble makers she might run into would still have a healthy respect for if not fear of authority. 

Finally, her turn onto the vehicle came up. Standing at the entrance of the shuttle bus, the woman reached out and handed the bus operator–a rather burly steer–her suitcase. She waited there for a moment, watching and making a mental note of where the man placed it on the luggage rack that was stationed behind the driver's seat, in this case the central shelf. When he motioned for her to hand over the carry-on she was holding as well, the red fox shook her head. "Thank you, but no thank you, sir. I've got this," she politely declined before she moved past him and made her way into the bus. Even though she kept her face expressionless and her posture unthreatening, the vixen couldn't help but notice a few prey animals already in seats watching her intently as she passed by them.

Finding an open set of seats halfway into the bus on the left, the woman was quick to slide in and settle herself next to the window; carefully placing her carry-on atop her lap. It was a bit of weight to rest on her legs but the leather satchel bag held the majority of her important possessions. She wasn't about to risk any of it getting lost or to be more precise... _misplaced_. Not that she felt everyone on this bus had the possibility of being a specist asshole but considering they were all likely heading towards Zootopia? She wasn't about to risk it. If anything happened to the vixen's suitcase, she'd merely be out a wardrobe and some equipment she could get replaced easily enough. The satchel held far more precious things.

Soon, the shuttle bus began filling up with more passengers. Her poker face firmly in place, Carmelita took note of how people would act as they came neat her. While this did include studying the actions of larger predators, Carmelita was particularly interested in anyone of the herbivore set. The animals like the tigers, wolves, and a small badger family merely paid her no mind as they looked for seats. But all the pigs, sheep, rabbits, and one elderly cow... were hesitant. They would stop short, taking up all the open seats up front–but _**not**_ directly in front of her–that they could before they HAD to move past her. Those that did were quick to get by her and kept on walking. The triangular ears atop her scalp rose high above her navy blue tresses, twitching as they strained to hear the rustling of personal baggage and purses. Apparently these people were paranoid of her presence to the point of not feeling safe with her merely being there.

 _Oh this is_ _ **not**_ _off to a good start_ , the vixen thought glumly as she continued to sit there stoically, fingers gently drumming along the brown surface of her carry-on. Even if the Hispanic beauty was fretting a bit internally, she was able to externally portray herself as a person of a calm attitude and collected presence; as unthreatening a demeanor as possible. _On the plus side_ , she mentally added. _If this keeps up I can just sit my bag next to me_.

Within mere minutes, the bus' seating filled in one after another behind her as paranoid prey did their best to keep clear of her. The vulpine officer was just about to give up and chalk another point up to Bentley's intelligence gathering... except for one final passenger getting on the shuttle. He was a solidly built panther, dressed in a casual albeit preppy style with a white dress shirt that was tucked into a pair of evergreen slacks. The collar of said buttoned-up shirt was popped up, showing off the black tie he had around his neck in done a Granchester knot. To finish off the look, the black-furred jaguar had a flat cap atop his scalp, the same shade of blue-green as his pants. The feline brought his right hand up and tipped the stiff brim of his rounded cap up, so he could look out into the bus with vibrant green eyes, searching about for something–likely any open seating... before settling on her.

Nodding his head at the direction of the vulpine, the ebony-furred feline handed the muscular bull driver his forest green duffel bag before making his way along the rows of seats, before coming to a stop beside padded sectional that that vixen was sitting in. Giving her a nervous smile, he queried in heavily accented English, "Excuse me, Señorita Zorra... is this seat taken?"

Carmelita couldn't help but give the man a small albeit genuine smile. "No, it's not. Go ahead, Señor Pantera." Feeling a little cheeky as she saw his eyes widen in surprise, she told him to take a load off in her–likely their–native tongue, "Tome un peso de encima."

At those words, the jaguar was suddenly grinning from ear-to-ear. "Alabado sea el Señor!" He cheered with obvious relief as he settled down next to the vixen. He became very animated, talking quickly to the woman. "No tienes idea de lo difícil que es encontrar a alguien que hable Español tan al Norte!" He inhaled to get much needed breath. "La verdad es que es un alivio! Me siento tan cansado me sale de sonar como un idiota! Mi comprensión de Inglés no es tan fluido como me gustaría..." he shook his head in disgust with himself.

The man's fluent Spanish did manage to do something the female red fox hadn't been able to do in a long while. Relax. Sly picked up phrases to whisper sweet nothings to her but she hadn't had a real conversation in her native tongue since the last time she talked with her folks. There was something familiar and comfortable about sliding back into her first language. "No es de por aquí, verdad?" She queried, wondering if the panther was from around there or not.

The man was about to answer, only to pause as the bus went into motion. Relaxing back into his half of the seat, he smiled. "Oh, pero estoy," he said proudly, surprising her. "Puede que sea originario de Venezuela pero trabajar y vivir en la Tundra-Ciudad Distrito del Zootopia. Sólo estoy volviendo de un viaje de vuelta allí para ver a mis padres." Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked, "Y usted, Señorita?"

Catching the drift, the vulpine woman gave her fellow Latin mammal the name, "Fox. Carmelita Fox." She then politely held out her hand to him in greeting. "Soy originaria de España, pero he estado viviendo en París durante los últimos ocho años. Voy a estar viviendo en Zootopia para los próximos seis meses, Señor...?" she trailed off, wanting his name in return.

Taking the woman's hand, he panther surprised the female vulpine by holding it up to his face. "Ah, un Europeo. Me sorprendió ver que tan lejos..." he gave it a kiss, pleased to see a slight flush to the woman's face. "Perdóneme, Señorita Fox. Soy Renato Manchas. Un placer conocerte."

Feeling a flush of heat in her cheeks in embarrassment at the rather romantic gesture from a man she just met, Carmelita went back to speaking English... she didn't want the suave feline trying to pursue this course of action. Just because they spoke the same language didn't mean she wanted to get romantic or anything! Still, the Hispanic vulpine was polite about it as she said, "Ah yes... it is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Manchas." She carefully withdrew her hand and tried to change the topic of conversation. "So, you live in Zootopia's Tundratown District? What do you do there?"

"I work as professional driver," the black-furred jaguar replied with a grin. "I work..." he paused, trying to think of the word. "I work as **Chauffer** for Tundratown Limo-Service. Lot of people love to be driven in style and for the locals... well, lots don't like to do driving in a permanently frozen terrain. Takes lot of skill and experience to get around Tundratown without causing damage to car." He clenched the fingers of his right hand a few times. "I have found my natural feline reflexes to be a... how you say... godsend?" He chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly as he lowered his hand. His green eyes then met the vixen's chocolate orbs again. "And you, Miss Fox?"

Considering the man's words–of only slightly broken English–for a moment, the red fox nodded her head in understanding and in all honestly, a little relief. The feline gentleman seemed to be well-adjusted enough, all things considered. _Although that probably comes from the fact he wasn't born in Zootopia but Venezuela_ , she surmised. Realizing the man was waiting for her to answer, she finally spoke, "Well, let's just say I got a municipal position and you'll be able to find me at the Savanna Central District easily enough." She didn't want to come out and say she was a cop, in case anyone else was listening in on their conversation.

The panther raised an eyebrow at that. "Municipalis, huh?" He murmured for a moment as he considered that. "So you got some corporate gig, huh? So you is going to be some kind of administrator then?"

Nodding her head slowly in confirmation, the vixen answered, "Sí, something like that." She wasn't lying a she would be administrating law and order to the masses. "It's going to be a very people-oriented job."

Smiling, Renato replied, "Ah, I see... well, if you ever need real fancy ride somewhere for important events, I'm your man." He blinked his eyes as a realization came to him. "Ah! Uno momento!" He then reached his right hand behind him and into his back pants' pocket. Withdrawing his wallet, the jaguar flipped it open and removed a small business card from it. "Here! Take it!" He chirped excitedly. "I would be happy to drive you, Señorita Fox!"

Blinking her chocolate eyes at that, the woman reached out for and accepted the small white card that toted the name of the business he worked for, the address, phone number, and the panther's extension. "Gracias, Señor Manchas," she thanked him as she slid the card into one of the small pockets on the exterior of her satchel. "I will keep that in mind." Not that she ever thought she would need such a service but experience had taught the vulpine detective that it was always good idea to keep options open.

Chuckling as he placed his wallet back into his back pocket, Renato waved her off. "No problema, hermosa," he told her nonchalantly as he straightened himself up. "Anything for a compañero Latín mamífero." He grinned. "And a lovely one at that." He wagged his eyebrows at the woman sitting to his right in a rather cheeky fashion.

Carmelita couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Seems someone thinks himself quite the charmer..." she whispered. Not that she was trying to degrade the man, but she was trying to gently let him know that she wasn't interested in the jaguar in _that_ way.

Smiling, the jaguar was about to pursue matters further when the sound of jazzy, ragtime trumpets began emanating from his pocket. "Oh! Perdóname! Work calling," he explained as he dove his hand into the pocket of his left side; the vixen's ear catching the sound of jingling keys amongst the smooth sound of band music.

Raising a navy blue eyebrow in curiosity, the female red fox was quite curious as to what was going on... before the velvety tones of Frank Sinatra and Jerry Voles came could be heard. "...Is your ring-tone, 'Bye, Bye Blackbird'?" She queried as Renato fished out his cell-phone.

However, the ebony-furred jaguar ignored her for the moment as he slid his thumb across the screen of the device and brought it to the side of his head. "Hola, Señor Big!" He chimed out before nodding his head rapidly. "Sí, sí... I'm back. On bus to Bunnyburrow. Sí, the folks are doing well, thank you for asking..."

Realizing that her current conversation was on hold, Officer Fox turned her head away from the panther in an effort to give him some privacy. She gazed out the window, watching as they passed by some rather lovely landscape. Lots of greenery with all kinds of plant-life, trees, the rolling hills further back practically acting as a backdrop piece for blue skies. It was almost unnaturally beautiful. _Seems they weren't kidding about the lengths Washington went through for their Scenic and Recreational Highways program_ , she vulpine thought with a bit of awe at the natural beauty that was displayed. Still, no matter how pretty it was, such was one of the many aspects of the problem. Even if all of this originated from a state office, it was an excuse that allowed Zootopia and its surrounding areas to be more worried about the image they portrayed to the public and not what was going on within it.

Sighing, Carmelita couldn't help but think back to all the little turtle told her.

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Eyes fluttering open, the Latina vulpine's nostrils flared as they slowly inhaled a certain scent. It was a rather delicious aroma that worked to lull her out of her sleepy state. "Is that..." the woman trailed off as she pushed herself up into a sitting position atop her bed. "Bacon?" She looked about her room, gazing into the darkness that filled it thanks to her natural night vision kicking in. She frowned slightly as she saw the digital clock on her nightstand read, '8:37 pm'. "Maldición..." she cursed under her breath. "I slept the day away!"

Swiveling herself atop her bed, the vixen threw her legs over the side before pushing off. "Ugh... twelve hours sleep and I still feel like shit..." she growled irritably as the female red fox threw her arms out to either side of her. Leaning back a bit, she winced as she both heard and felt the crack in her spine. "I'm beginning to think Barkley was right. I haven't been getting enough sleep." Despite having passed out during the daylight hours, it had been a dreamless sleep, leaving the woman feeling as though no time had passed.

Opening her maw wide and releasing a yawn, the canid woman smacked her lips for a moment. While it was odd that there was the smell of cooking going on in her home, the policewoman's practical mind realized who it had to be. She had sent her _friend_ a message to meet up with her tonight; told him what happened at the office and that she needed his help. The Hispanic vulpine had been expecting to wake up and have a chance to clean up and ready herself beforehand but it appeared such wasn't the case. "Ugh... I've been wearing the same clothes for two days now. I really need to shower after this talk too."

So with that promise made, the red fox took a moment to steady herself before she made her way to the door of her bedroom. Hand on the doorknob, the woman had to peer through nearly closed eyelids as she pulled it open; the hallways lights were on and her eyes needed a moment to adjust. When they had, the Interpol officer blinked her eyes as they focused once more, before making her way towards the kitchen. Coming to a stop at the entrance, the female fox caught sight of the wheelchair-bound turtle as he made his way about the cooking area. Decked out in glasses, a short sleeved dress shirt, a red bow tie around his neck, a gold watch around his wrist, and gloves on his hands to make it easier for him to grip the wheels of his chair, he was handily moving back and forth between the stove and the toaster.

"Bentley!" She called out to the reptile in question. "Don't you know it's impolite to enter a woman's home without knocking?" She queried good-naturedly. She didn't expect too much from him, as he was a thief after all.

"True," the vertically-challenged turtle replied without missing a beat as he used the spatula in his right hand to stir some eggs he had frying up in a cast-iron pan. "But you had invited me earlier so I felt I had free reign. And being the good guest, I didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep so I decided I'd make it worth your while to get up." He placed the spatula down atop some paper-towels set on the countertop and used one of his gloved hands to turn his chair about to face her. "Besides, checking out your fridge, I saw you had some foods that were reaching their expiration dates so I thought I'd help you finish them off."

Walking into the room, the woman shook her head good-naturedly. "Dios bueno, Bentley... that sounds like something Murray would say." She was almost up to a turtle when he held a hand up in a warding motion for her to stop. "What?" The Latina beauty queried as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you want some help?"

A small smile split across the reptile's face. "Relax. If I need a hand..." he pressed a button on the left armrest of his wheelchair, causing a pair of mechanical limbs to extend from a device connected to the backrest of the chair. "I have them. You just sit down and let me be a nice guy by making you breakfast, okay?"

Pouting a little, the woman was quick to defer to the turtle's wishes. "Fine, you win..." she huffed cutely. Turning towards the table, she made her way over to it, gently grasping a chair and pulling it back before coming around to sit in it. "But you should know, if you wanted to be a real gentleman, you would have made me dinner. It's more appropriate!"

Another chuckle sounded from Bentley's throat. "Please! In our lines of work, this time of night **is** the start of our proverbial day!" Picking up the spatula, the wagged it at her in a teasingly chiding fashion as he proclaimed, "And breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"

"I may work late hours but don't think of it as my norm. Not all of us make our livings skulking around at night," Carmelita replied, but didn't push the matter any further as she wanted to at least _try_ to relax. Besides, the vulpine officer wouldn't turn away a nice hot cooked meal, that much was certain. However, since it looked like the shelled reptile still needed to do a bit more, the vixen felt she might as well make some small-talk in the meantime. "When did you learn how to cook anyway?"

"Well, when it came to the gang, one of us had to learn," Bentley said with a bit of mock-seriousness. Looking over his shoulder at the woman sitting at the table by the placemat he set up, the computer genius added, "Otherwise we would have been eating fast food and take-out around the clock." He turned his attention back to the stove, slowly slicing the rubber spatula through the eggs and sliding some of the cooked portions up into the rest of the egg mix as he scrambled them slowly but surely.

Nodding her head in understanding, the Hispanic vulpine had to agree, "I can attest to that." She lost track of how many dingy airport fast food stands she had to eat at during her travels with Interpol... and that was nothing to say about how it was almost universal law that every base they set up for missions, somehow **donuts** would find their way into it. Shaking her head a little to clear her thoughts, the woman then told the turtle, "Still... I thank you for cooking. I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal."

"I can tell," the turtle replied, the man still stirring the large utensil along the scrambled goodness he was creating. "I had to empty half your fridge. You had so many items that had turned that... if I may be frank? I'm surprised this place doesn't smell like a garbage dump." Then as an afterthought, he added, "Although you may want to invest in a lot of baking soda... and I mean _a lot_. I think the stench permeated into the interior plastic components of your refrigerator."

Carmelita grimaced at being told that. It was going to be a pain to try and deal with that if she were gone on this mission. "I guess I can look into it..." she murmured, wondering if she could get an industrial box and toss it all into the refrigeration unit. "Just please tell me you didn't find any bugs or anything in the fridge." She practically pleaded with Bentley.

Fortunately, the wheelchair-bound genius shook his head in affirmation. "Well good news in that regard. There were thankfully no bugs to be found."

Closing her eyes, the vulpine woman released a big sigh of relief. "Thank God for small miracles," she murmured quietly. That was the last thing she needed, to have bugs everywhere. The policewoman still remembered the time she and Sly had to go into abandoned farmland to arrest an international drug dealer. He had been using the farming area he had holed himself up in as drug lab; just making more of his trade was lying low in preparation for when he felt everything would have blown over...

The female red fox and her raccoon partner brought the fiend to justice... and she ended up with so many deer ticks on her that it wasn't even funny. Even now, anytime the canid cop thought about it, the vixen had to pick at her fur-covered skin to make sure there weren't any hiding on her butt or someplace else.

Sitting up straight as a shiver went through her spine at the thought, the female vulpine shook her head in disgust at the memories. She needed to get her mind on something else, STAT. "Anyway," she spoke up, deciding to get back to the old standby of small-talk. "Please know that while I appreciate you making me food very much, that wasn't the reason why I had contacted you with a request to come over to my place."

"I know it's not," the wheelchair-bound reptilian replied. "However, before we talk business, I need you mentally alert. You were sleeping like the dead when I arrived..." he smirked. "It almost sounded like you were chopping down trees or at least cutting up your furniture. I would have sworn you were revving up a chainsaw in there."

Rolling her eyes, the female red fox let off a little snort of annoyance. "Oh, hardy-har-har..." she grumbled sarcastically in annoyance as the small turtle began to turn away from the stove. She raised her eyes as she realized those mechanical appendages that came from the back of his chair were holding plates of food as he turned the wheels with his hands. "Still, I do thank you for going to all this trouble. What did you find out? Can you get me out of this stupid assignment?"

The turtle brought his right fist up to his face, his index finger rising up before his lips. "Shhh..." he shushed her softly. "Just relax. Eat up, get your thoughts together, and _then_ we'll talk." As he said that, one of the mechanical mitts placed the plate down on the table atop the place setting he'd positioned earlier. "For now, please enjoy your food."

Although she was more than a little anxious to learn what the man had discovered, Carmelita nodded her head in resignation before she did as told. Cutting off a piece of the scrambled eggs on her plate with a fork, the woman opened her mouth before placing it in there. Closing her lips around the helping of egg delight, she slid the utensil out and chewed vigorously... before her eyes went wide. "MMM! Dis ith..." the Latina vulpine stopped what she was saying and swallowed her mouthful of food–she could already envision her mother yelling at her about minding proper table manners. The woman then began to praise once more with a much clearer tone, "This is pretty darn good!"

The shelled reptile couldn't help but puff up a little with pride. "Thank you, Carm. You're very welcome." Bentley smiled as he started to dig in to his own food. It may have been simple fare, but genuine gratitude for one's cooking was always something to he enjoyed. "I tell you, Carmelita," the turtle began with a pleased tone of voice. "While cooking is just another form of chemistry, I can't help but find it amazing just how far a little paprika can take something." He scooped up another mouthful of eggs and chewed vigorously before swallowing as well.

The policewoman managed a small smile. She had to admit that this was... nice. Probably the first time she was able to actually relax in God knew how long. The vulpine beauty had been working around the clock as much as she could, either with her primary job or her own private investigation into Sly's whereabouts. Honestly, it reminded the red fox of her early days working as an Interpol Inspector, only now it wasn't as easy to shake off the effects of pushing her mind and body to the limit... and she wasn't even thirty yet!

Within a good fifteen minutes–and a bit more praise from that vixen that such was the best bacon she ever had in her life–the plates were cleaned... and then genuinely cleaned! Almost as soon as she had finished her meal, those mechanical arms of the turtle's advanced, high-tech wheelchair grasped her plate for her before the male reptile went over to the sink and began washing dishes. She was amazed those mechanized limbs could be delicate enough TO wash dishes. "That... that is a neat trick."

A chuckle could be heard from the turtle. Even if he kept his attention towards the sink, Bentley couldn't help but remark, "Speaking from experience? The best way to avoid dish-pan hands is to use someone or in this case, _something_ else's!"

Carmelita barked out a laugh. True, his joke wasn't _that_ funny but it was light-hearted enough to warrant a laugh from her. "Still, I do want to thank you again. That was a good meal." The blue-tressed fox felt like her eyes were going to water up from how stuffed she was with all that food. On the plus side of things, the Inspector didn't feel as exhausted as she hard earlier, so she decided that perhaps now as the time to make her inquiry. "So, Bentley, I just..." she sighed as she trailed off. The vulpine policewoman needed to collect her thoughts coherently and not just ramble. Finally, she began, "I'm not sure about taking this job. I mean, what if Sly turns up in the next few days? What would he say if I wasn't there?" Heck, the vixen knew **she** would be disappointed in him if the situations were reversed. "He's alive, I know it..."

"Oh, you don't need to convince me," Bentley replied as he rolled his eyes, even if the action was hidden by the thick lenses of his glasses. "Believe me, I've known Sly since we were both eight-years-old! He could have been at ground zero of a nuclear blast and would have survived!"

"By hiding in a fridge, no doubt," Carmelita snorted, getting a laugh out of both of them over the thought of the master thief surviving that by hiding like that. It was an asinine thought but the raccoon seemed to have the luck of the devil so doing something so crazy likely _would_ have worked for him.

As his laughter began to subside, the turtle nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah... and he would probably end up in the hospital longer than I had been if he did that. His limbs would be broken beyond the ability of modern medical science." The artificial limbs on his chair settled the plates down to the right of the sink, atop the kitchen counter that was aligned with the wall. His gloved hands came down to the wheels and he turned himself about to face the vixen once more. Wheeling over to her as the mechanical appendages withdrew back into the chair, he settled up next to the woman. "Now, I will admit that you sounded a bit, to be polite... out of it... when you called and explained things to me," he said in all seriousness. "But I decided to take a look for myself on your behalf."

There was suddenly a very bright, almost intimidating gleam that shone across the lenses of the aquatic reptile's glasses as he raised his head to look up at her; the reflection of her ceiling lights almost an unearthly glow within them. "Carmelita... in all honesty, I think it would be best for you to accept the mission they're requesting you for. If their reasoning–and that goes for both your boss and the ZPD–for having you head over to the States is true, you would be doing a world of good for a lot of people."

The Latina vixen looked like she was going to respond, but Bentley cut her off. "And if you think, even for one moment, that you wouldn't be the first to hear about it if I found Sly, you're completely insane." The woman blinked her soft brown eyes in surprise as Bentley shook his head slowly. "Do you really think that I, of all people, would give up on him? Now don't get me wrong. If there _was_ a body, I would be drinking myself into an early grave right now... but there's not, which means I won't give up."

Carmelita nodded slowly, impressed with the intelligent reptile's convictions. She knew the turtle was really good friends with Sly and would find a way to move Heaven and Hell if it meant finding his brother in all but blood. "I know. But this... I mean, this is just..."

"Besides..." he gently interrupted, smiling softly at her. "It's not something that would take all that long in the grand scheme of things is it? I mean, you would be gone for what? Six months? Seven? Ten at most if things go sour, right?"

All the Hispanic woman could do was nod her head slowly in affirmation, wondering what he was up to.

The knowing grin grew across the turtle's beak. "See? That's not forever. Besides, it might do you some good to get away from it all, get distracted a little bit. And who knows else! Maybe you'll discover something while you're there that will help us figure out where Sly is." Granted, it was a longshot but at this point? Going any extra length would help in the long run. "And in the meantime, your presence would be just what that city needs. Trust me on this."

The woman looked at her friend for the longest time, trying to process what he was telling her. Honestly, she never thought of it as a chance to continue her investigation into what happened to Sly, only that it would be a distraction from her goal. "You really think so?" The vixen queried most curiously. She didn't think that was possible but stranger things **had** happened before.

The turtle nodded his head in affirmation. "Carmelita, I don't think. I _know_ so," he told her firmly. "Frankly, getting any information about Zootopia outside of what they allow for public relations purposes and press releases is, shall we say... more difficult than pulling teeth!" He said in all seriousness. "There is information to be had but you've got to dig, go down into the deep web... find whatever tiny scraps you can atop of looking for ghosts."

The woman raised a navy blue eyebrow at the shelled genius' choice of expression. "Looking for ghosts?" She repeated, a frown plastered across her muzzle. "Does this concern the, 'rich history' of Zootopia I've been hearing about?" Barkley had already laid down why they were trying to change the status quo... particularly with the shock collars. Yet the tone of the male reptilian's voice spoke volumes to the canid cop, as if warning her that it was possibly even worse than the old badger let on.

"Oh indeed it does," Bentley replied in positive confirmation. "A history rich in protein, cholesterol, iron, glucagon, insulin, lead, iodine, and all the other components that make up the blood of the innocents spilt on that soil."

That made the vixen blink her chocolate eyes once, twice, thrice. "What are you saying, Bentley?" The somber tone of his voice was more than an indication that this was no joking matter... yet for him to go into such scientific detail kind of derailed the seriousness of it.

Sighing, the wheelchair-bound reptile reached behind him, sliding his gloved hand into a compartment that was built into the device that comprised part of the backrest of his mode of transportation. The bespectacled man dug around for a moment before he finally withdrew a manila folder of all things.

Watching as he placed the documentation labeled, 'Zootopia' on the table before her, the vixen frowned as she stared down at it. "I'm probably not going to like what I'm about to see, am I?" Carmelita asked as she reached forward and took hold of the folder.

"You'd probably enjoy being covered in ticks more than what you're about to see," the turtle said as he brought his hand up, pressing a finger to the bridge of his glasses to settle them back into proper place, adjusting the eyewear on the bridge of his beak. "Normally, I would give you any information I find on a flash drive but... I think what I found **needed** to be printed on photo stock for maximum effect."

Nodding her head in understanding, the vulpine woman went and flipped open the cover of the folder... and her eyes went wide at what she saw. The first article was that of black and white photograph. The image portrayed numerous children standing behind a chain-link fence. A couple of wolves pups holding onto each other, a fox kit with his hand on the fence the boy's fingers curled around a bit of metal barrier, a lion cub a little further off with a tiny badger in front of him. So many sad expressions broken up by the diamond-shaped pattern of inter-linked metal... and in view, to the top right corner of the photo was a sign hung over the front of the fence that read, 'Preds Only'.

She flipped the image and her eyes widened even further at the cruelty that lay within. It was a picture of a fallen black-furred wolf with a twisted leg, the male predator's arm outstretched for a wooden crutch just out of reach. The wolf was in a mid-howl as a quartet of male gazelle in prep school clothes were beating him down; kicking him with their cloven hooved feet while they had rocks in their hands to throw down at him. One of the boys was even holding up a trashcan lid in, his legs spread and arms held high in a stance that could only be preparation to slam the circular metal lid down on the lame lupine with all his strength.

Twitching irritably, the woman quickly flipped the photograph to the next one in the procession. She blinked her chocolate eyes in surprise as it was a nice photo that portrayed a rather lovely section of a city. So many store, so many animals dressed in their Sunday best. She began to relax a little until her Inspector's Intuition kicked in; orange sparkles flickering through her vision in strategic places over the black and white picture to bring her attention to the little details. All the people on the streets of this peaceful scene were herbivores–mostly sheep... and to top it off, all the store-fronts were listed as, 'Prey Only'.

Snorting in disgust at seeing self-aggrandizement on such a grand scale, the red fox flipped the photo over to look at the next image in the set... and the woman felt a clench of horror in her chest. It was a mob of prey around a tree. Yes, a **mob**. Such a word was the only way to describe the gathered animals in the picture. Even if they were dressed nicely with men in pressed suits and women in fine dresses, they were gathered around cheetah hanging from the tree; neck bent at an unnatural angle on the noose tied around it. She started to tremble with unbridled fury from not only such inanimality but from the realization there were police officers in the image as well, the uniformed men a part of the problem. Men who had sworn to serve and protect upon taking up the badge were actively abetting a **hate** crime!

She was quick to turn the image over, not wanting to stare any longer at that atrocity... but that meant she saw the next one in the line of imagery. Carmelita would have sworn she felt her heart drop into her stomach as she saw a bunch of young predator children lined up, a massive elephant decked out in a white lab-coat and vintage doctor's headband with reflector was clasping a collar around the neck of a young bear cub at the front of the line. The large device protruding on the side of it testament to what the restraint could do... he was adorning these children with shock collars.

The policewoman could barely stand what she was seeing. Again and again, Inspector Fox quickly flipped through atrocity after atrocity! Hate crime after hate crime! Home-grown act of terrorism after home-grown act terrorism! The sensation of dread only grew worse as the photos went to color. Where most iconic images of the Civil Rights Movement remained in the era of black and white, the fact that there were photographs that went into Technicolor was further proof of just how long the specist attitudes of Zootopia had lasted.

The woman kept flipping images, just wanting to see something that wasn't horrible... only to come to a stop on a photo that broke her heart outright. It was that of a crying fox cub, the kit obviously screaming at the top of his lung in terror while the young boy was tightly gripped in the oversized hand of a rhinoceros police officer. Another, finely dressed fox–probably the boy's father–was crying, holding onto the sleeve of larger herbivore's uniform shirt, obviously pleading to deaf ears while trying to reach for the boy who so desperately tried to reach back.

That did it for her. Unable to bring herself to look any further, the Latina vulpine closed the folder, visibly shaken by what she had witnessed. That last image hit her to the core. "I... I can't..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't look at any more."

The turtle nodded somberly. "That last one you looked at was dated in 1988... think about that, Carm. This was the prevalent attitude of the population and such was likely common-day occurrence up to nearly the **Nineties**!"

Swallowing in an effort to get moisture to a suddenly dry throat, the woman brought her right hand to her face, gently rubbing her forehead as she closed her eyes. "Why is it that I find the most 'liberal', 'progressive', and 'open' societies are usually the ones that have the darkest pasts?" She didn't even want to think about how bad it was there now. The Eighties wasn't that long ago; any children who grew up during that time would likely have an innate hatred towards the other side. Hell, at the moment she felt like asking Bentley to use his time machine so they could go back and break a few kneecaps in Zootopia. "That was..." she trailed off, unable to even think of a way to put it properly. "That was what it was like when Jim Crow was in charge, huh?"

The turtle could only offer a shrug of his shoulders. "I wasn't there. I wouldn't know exactly but I will say it was most likely," Bentley replied somberly. "But still... that isn't the only thing that they've done..." a frown firmly set itself on his features. "They've also committed outright exile under the guise of religious tolerance."

That made the woman blink her eyes once, twice. "Exile?"

"You closed the folder before you got to the last few pages... but they're dated around '95. There are no more collars in those images, thank God but..." he sighed. "Turn the folder over and just open it that way so if you want, you don't have to see the rest of the images. Grab the four pictures on top."

Looking down at the manila folder as if it were a cobra ready to strike, the vixen slowly turned her gaze upwards. She looked towards the wheelchair-bound reptile rather uncertainly.

"I mean it, Carm," the short-statured turtle said firmly. "They say a picture is worth a thousand words... those images there have enough to fill in a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica."

The man's choice of words made the Latina vulpine cringe. Still, he seemed very serious about this and so she conceded to his request. Turning the tan-colored folder over, the female red fox opened the back lord of the folder. Upon doing so, she was greeted to the sight of the white backings of the photographs within. Bracing her nerves, the policewoman reached in and took hold of the initial quartet of photos before her and flipped them over.

The top image portrayed a scene that looked as though it were a business meeting of some sort, with two figures in particular as the main focus. The first was that of a rotund hippo, the aquatic mammal decked out in a fine three-piece green business suit; a cigar hanging out from the right corner of the man's wide mouth. The other individual who was shaking hands with the first was a sunglasses-adored camel garbed in the traditional white thawb gown and ghutra cap of Saddle Arabia. There were also numerous attendees that looked on, both predator and prey cheering them on. Carmelita was rather confused as to how this was a bad thing... in fact, it was probably the first openly multi-cultural and multi-species image in the whole set!

However, once she turned to the next picture... her jaw dropped. It was a photo that contained reptiles of all sorts. Tortoises, toads, and lizards... so many lizards! There were horned lizard, fringed lizards, iguanas, and geckos to name a few of the species. All these reptilian animals were being forced out into the sandy streets of a rather desert-like area, all of them holding onto luggage or what few possessions they had or could manage to grab. The Zootopia police were out in force with a number of them placing, 'condemned' signs on buildings in what had to be evidence of the most heavy-handed eminent domain ever caught on film.

The Latina woman flipped it over, hoping to get some answers. What the vixen saw in the third image was the SAME area... only now the house decorations were different and everyone on the streets were camels. Everywhere was camels, camels, and MORE CAMELS! A number of them were in clad in more Western casual clothing but a few in the image were still dressed in the traditional style of the humped herbivore that was in that first image. And not one reptile to be seen anywhere...

"What the..." Carmelita murmured before going to the last picture of the set. The fourth image was that of a side-by-side aerial view of an area that was listed as, 'Sahara Square'. On the left of the photograph was a very simple but lovely township with the majority of structures being made of stone and red brick. On the right was a bright, shimmering, almost Las Vegas-like area; a place the vulpine would have described as being a cross between Palm Springs and Dubai. Whereas every building before was close to the ground, now there were minarets and unique structures rising up above the rest of the buildings. However, even they weren't the focus as they were all placed so that they circled around a central area: a giant building designed in reminiscence of a palm tree, with gold bark and emerald leaves glistening in the bright noon day sun, almost as tall as some of the buildings that could be seen rising above the wall of another city-like area in the background. It was only thanks to that combined with the shape of the land and the sections of wall bordering the area acting as proof to that the segment on the right of the photograph WAS indeed the same place as that on the left.

Even as she looked on, the turtle explained, "In the early 1990's, Zootopia allowed Saddle Arabian oil tycoons to invest their money into the City-State. While the rest of the world had to deal with the oil price shock that was resulting from the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, OPEC offered them incredible breaks the rest of the world didn't have access to... on _**one condition**_. Respect for their religion. And to do that, it meant the camels would not be forced to interact with reptiles. At all." There was a growing anger in Bentley's voice. "Without the Predator-Prey specism running rampant–at least openly–the attitude of, 'survival of the fittest' was taking its place as the mainstream mindset. Such came together with the camels' ideals which amounted to persecution and discrimination based on religious grounds, and the politicians backed them up whole-heartedly. This resulted in the reptile population–a smaller and weaker species that was different from their mammal neighbors–being forced out of their homes in a mass exodus... worse, as if to add insult to injury the Zootopian government gave their newfound camel allies ownership of the reptile population's former homesteads the police evicted them from in their hostile takeover."

The Hispanic vulpine raised her head staring at the turtle in shock.

The reptile genius just met her gaze with a firm stare of his own. "To put bluntly... Zootopia has been reptile-free for over two decades now in return for energy stability and reduced oil prices. To this day, petroleum is extremely cheap over there... especially when one compares it to the price-gouging going on across the rest of the world."

The woman shook her head, having trouble coming to terms with all this. Barkley had let her know it had been bad but to find out the mammals in charge had let it continue to _this_ degree? "This is... beyond _**disgusting**_ at this point." Heck, if there were any reptiles that committed acts of terrorism against Zootopia, she wasn't sure she could find it in herself to blame them. "Tell me, Bentley... did it get better?"

"If you mean officially, then yes, it did improve in a lot of regards. Unofficially however..." the short-statured genius sighed. "There are still some real tensions there. You know it takes at least around thirty years and two generations for specist tensions to start easing off. That is, unless people in positions of power start stroking old wounds." He snorted. "Namely by blaming everyone who had never been oppressed, even if they weren't guilty of the terrible things their parents and grandparents had done." Oh yes, the social climate over there was definitely going to turn on the herbivores if someone in power tried to do anything like they had done to the reptiles anytime within the next decade.

The vixen was quiet for a long, long time as she considered that. Finally, she was able to meet her turtle friend's gaze once more. "Well then... I guess I better do my laundry." Carmelita stood up, much to Bentley's confusion. "I would rather **not** go traveling with smelly clothes." She knew Bentley would watch out for Sly, she knew that Bentley would let her know any updates, and she knew that this demanded her attention. Even if things had gotten better, there were a lot of people who grew up through those terrible times... animals with lots of emotional, physical, and psychological scars that would try to push their insecurities and specism onto a generation that never went through that. _I'd fear for the future if that was what they were teaching in colleges_ , she thought to herself.

Hearing the woman talk about her laundry, the turtle was surprised for a moment until she sounded out her intentions. He solemnly nodded his head in understanding. "So you plan to go through with it then?" He queried of her seriously. "To become the first officer of their new, Mammal Inclusion Initiative and start showing those dumb animals just what a vulpine is capable of in a position of authority? That there's nothing to fear and a fox will take it just as seriously as they would, given half a chance?" Yeah, he knew he was laying it on a wee bit thick there, but he felt he needed to hear Inspector Fox say it.

"More like I'm worried that something big might happen if I'm not there to prevent it," the vixen said before visibly shuddering. "History like that doesn't just up and disappear overnight. It hasn't even been a generation, Bentley." She sighed wearily. "It's like you said. It takes at least thirty years plus a generation for tensions to start easing up."

The turtle started nodding his head. "And counting the reptile exodus? While it's coming close, it hasn't even been twenty-five years since it happened. Still more than enough time for someone to screw things up and spark old hatreds." He placed his gloved hands on the tires of his chair and started wheeling himself over to her. "Carmelita?"

Looking down at the reptile that made his way up to her, the vulpine craned her head forward. "Sí, Bentley?" The woman queried curiously... before blinking her eyes in surprise as the turtle leaned forward in his seat and hugged her around the waist.

"Thank you," he told her, relief evident in his voice. "You're doing an incredible thing here. These people might be pushing the right thing for the wrong reasons but it _is_ the right thing." Releasing the embrace, he sat back and told the red fox, "Please don't worry. I'll keep an eye out for your affairs on this end of things while you're over in Zootopia so you won't have to think about it. I know Interpol probably mentioned something about handling such for you but let's be honest..." he managed to smirk slightly. "We know I'll do a better job."

Carmelita couldn't help but smirk at the reptile's almost infectious confidence. "Someone had to get Sly all his intel before, right?" Besides that, she knew she could trust him with her life, even if he was just a thief.

Relaxing a bit, the turtle released a good-natured sigh. "You got that right. And remember, if you ever need any help, you know how to contact me. Getting in there might be a bit of trouble but if you call in the cavalry, you'll get it."

"Thank you," the Latina vixen replied with obvious relief to her voice. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carmelita was torn from her thoughts when she was suddenly jerked forward; the bus coming to a firm stop. "All right," the steer at the front called over his shoulder out to the rest of the shuttle bus' occupants. "Welcome to Bunnyburrow! Everyone, please disembark one at a time starting from the front and moving on towards the back." He reached over and pulled a lever, causing the shutter-doors at the front of the bus to open before he got up to stand by the luggage rack to aid the passengers in retrieving their bags.

Straightening up in her seat after the ungraceful dive into the backrest of sectional in front of her, the vixen turned her head and gazed out the window to get a look at the little hamlet that was used as Zootopia's personal breadbasket... and her eyes went wide in awe. All she could see for miles and miles were rolling green hills and farmland. All around, spotted here and there on the land parcels were charming farm houses that were built with a very lapin esthetic in mind... meaning that with the rounded, almost egg-shaped buildings were surprisingly cute!

As she settled herself back into her seat, her right ear twitched as she heard a now familiar voice pipe up a bit louder than before. "Sí, sí... the bus has arrived at Bunnyburrow. I will call you when I'm back in city-limits, Señor Big. Adiós." He then slid his thumb over the front of his phone, shutting the connection. He turned his attention back to the vulpine beauty sitting beside him and apologized, "Please forgive, Señorita Fox. The Boss-man called and..." he shrugged. "Well, you just don't leave Boss-man on hold for nothin'!"

Unperturbed but the sudden apologetic nature for doing something that needed to forgiveness, the vixen waved off the jaguar's worries. "It's all right. Been there, done that, got enough t-shirts to kill the population of Australia." Although if what the mercenary troupe had told her was to be believed, the woman could have done it with a single massive one...

Blinking his eyes in surprise at that response, Renato could only guess that apparently, mocking bosses was one thing everyone had in common. After a moment more of considering that, the jaguar let off a hearty chuckle. "I admit it was still most shameful of me to leave you alone like that. And here I hoped to get to know lovely lady even better." He offered her a very friendly smile.

Sighing, the vulpine woman shook her head good naturedly, realizing where he was leading with that compliment. "It's all right, Señor Manchas. Really," she told him in a kind voice. "I won't have much time for any dating while I'm here. I have no doubt that my job is going to keep me extremely busy." She then offered him a gentle smile. "Still, your generosity is appreciated very much. Thank you."

Even though he was being shot down, the feline maintained that silly little grin of his. "Ya veo, ya veo..." he murmured, letting her know that he understood. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to try and hit up one of the stalls together, would it?" He queried honestly, an almost expectant look shining in his emerald gaze.

The vixen blinked her eyes curiously at that question. "Stalls?" She answered with her own inquiry. "What stalls are you talking about?"

"Sí!" The panther clapped his hands together and rubbed them with growing excitement. "You not from around here, so you may not know. But I promise you in for **real** treat! You can get fresh produce and baked goods out here in Bunnyburrow. Always best straight from the source."

Considering what her fellow Latin mammal was telling her, Carmelita nodded her head in understanding. With this place obviously being an agricultural community, such made sense to her. "Well then, which way is it to the stalls from here?" She asked politely.

"When we get off bus, I show you, Señorita Fox," he told the woman as he turned his attention towards the open aisle of the shuttle bus, watching as the other animals were slowly but surely getting up one after another before heading down to the front of the vehicle to reclaim their luggage and head off. When it was their turn to disembark, Renato motioned for the vixen to get up with him. "Come. We get bags and I lead you to it. I know a guy who makes _great_ baked goods. Will make you look at Wonder bread and wonder how you ever put up with such basura!"

Taking a moment to settle the strap of her satchel over her left shoulder, the Hispanic vulpine followed after the panther. She waited for him to retrieve him dark green duffel bag before she allowed the bus operating steer to help get her large travel suitcase down. "Gracias," she told the bovine bus driver in thanks as she took hold of it with her right hand. Turning about, she went to follow the ebony-furred jaguar through the open door and off the bus into Bunnyburrow proper. All around her, the female red fox could see that this was an area that promoted an agricultural-based society. Everywhere her eyes gazed about were animals–admittedly, mostly rabbits–that were dressed in farm attire, plain clothes, or already dirty garments from a hard day's work.

For the Interpol policewoman, the phrase, 'blue collar' immediately jumped to mind but in a good way. These were likely salt-of-the-earth folk, the working class and day laborers who busted their backs so that others in cities and suburbs could rest easy and have food ready for the table. She had much respect for that.

"This way," Renato called out to the vixen as he motioned down a worn dirty path that cut through the rolling sprawl of grass. "You'll also find the train station this way!" He told her as he began walking. As the moved forward with the grace felines were known for, he took a moment to look over his shoulder as he explained, "They do best business this way, making it more convenient for visiting city folk."

Well, that was good enough for her. Even if the fox saw nothing there she wanted, it wasn't like she would be going out of her way to see it. As they travelled over the path that cut through the hills, Carmelita's eyes soon widened as she saw what Mr. Manchas was obviously gushing about. It was possibly the largest farmers' market she'd ever seen! There were booths, tables, and stands everywhere, all done up with splashes of bright, eye-catching color; particularly the ones bearing the undeniably patriotic combination of red, white, and blue! All of the stalls were selling something delicious, with various kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables and even some vendors with prepared foods such as baked goods... heck, a whole line of those stands looked like they were for beverages! Booths with refreshing fruit smoothies, healthy vegetable drinks, and even an open-air bar for those who wanted to drink something a little _harder_.

"All right, color me impressed," the vixen whispered quietly to herself. She had been to rural areas before, all over the world even. While markets common enough back in Paris, she found events like this were rare in the States during this modern age, if they _ever_ happened anymore. "Is this common around here?" If it was, the policewoman was going to be making more than a few stops out here when it was convenient. Heck, her brown eyes were drawn to one stand in particular that she noticed was selling fresh strawberries! They were always so much _better_ than the store bought ones, very juicy and sweet!

The jaguar energetically nodded his head in positive confirmation. "Sí, Señorita! There are always some stalls here, run by local families. Better still, Bunnyburrow hosts this big farmers' market every weekend. People come from all over state to sell their wares and produce here. Is good business opportunity." He raised his left hand, making a beckoning motion. "Come. I show you where you can get **best** pie!"

Raising one of her lovely navy blue eyebrows up to where it joined her hairline, the vixen couldn't help but smirk. "Oh? The best pie, huh?" She shook her head and released a soft chuckle. "I'll be the judge of that." If there was one thing she had to give Sly, it was that while his skills in the kitchen were subpar, the raccoon could _**bake**_ with the best of them. The Latina vulpine would swear by his waffles as the best she ever had! _Although I must admit, Bentley makes the best bacon_ , she mentally added.

Walking amongst the fair ground, Carmelita did notice a pattern as she travelled about the area. And that was rabbits. Rabbits were everywhere, so many happy bunnies of all ages! She had thought the term, 'multiplying like rabbits' was just a phrase but this was seriously giving her some doubts that it was merely an old wives' tale. "I guess these families need a lot of hands for their farms," she murmured softly.

The black-furred feline turned his head to look over his shoulder. "What was that? You say something, Señorita?"

"Nothing," Carmelita called back to the panther ahead of her, making sure he heard her that time. "I was just thinking out loud."

Nodding his head in acceptance, the ebony-furred jaguar turned his head back to look ahead. "Ah... I understand... but hey! We here!" He chimed as he motioned to one of the stands, this one decorated with a white cloth on the front of the booth that was embroidered with blue stitching that read, 'Grey Bakery'. Coming up to the booth, the panther looked left and right before calling out, "Oi! Gideon! You there, mi amigo?"

"I'm-a comin'!" A male voice with a heavy rustic Southern accent chimed out. "You jess hold yer horses now! I be right wit'chu!"

The vixen's chocolate eyes widened in surprise as she was greeted to the sight of a fellow red fox coming out from behind the booth, his muscular arms carrying a tray that held a quartet of freshly baked pies; the treats obviously homemade. He was a rather rotund vulpine with very puffy-furred cheeks, and his crimson locks atop his head combed finely to where his hair was evenly slicked to either side of his scalp. He was decked out in a white muscle shirt but over that, a mostly buttoned up blue flannel shirt and dark navy blue jeans...

...And Carmelita had to admit... the white and pink-striped apron with a pie smiley face the man was wearing was just too damn adorable on him!

The male fox smiled in a friendly fashion as he caught sight of the panther. "Ah! Seen-yer Manchas!" He greeted in his thick, Southern drawl. "How ya doin' good sir?" However, he blinked his bright blue eyes a couple of times as he saw the woman standing next to the feline. "Oh ho! Now ain't you just the most gosh durn prettiest fox I ever did see!" He chimed as he placed the tray on the table amongst the bagged loaves of bread that were already out. "What can I do ya fer?"

Leaning up against the table so he was closer to the confectionary masterpieces, Renato was grinning from ear-to-ear, his nostrils flared as he inhaled the heavenly aroma of the man's baked goods. "Tell me, Gideon. What you have for pies today?" The jaguar asked curiously as he took another sniff of the air. "I swear, I smell bananas..." he cooed happily.

The portly fox chuckled softly. "Ah should've guessed, you only come fer my pies." Not that he was complaining. It was good to have steady customers. "Well, there's rhubarb, chocolate and I got two banana creams for the three flavors today."

Carmelita looked quite pleased at that. "Chocolate?" She queried as she got closer and gazed down at one of the pies on the tray. Her eyes widened as she saw that the pie looked as though it had melted chunks of chocolate in it, resting in a deliciously warm puddle of cocoa that was practically a pudding consistency served piping hot. "Dulce bebé Jesús!" She chimed out as she inhaled the scent that could only be described as, 'divine'.

Gideon just smiled at the woman's reaction, causing his cheeks to puff out further from his head. The sturdy baker was quite pleased with the woman's obvious enjoyment of his craft. "Ah, so yer a chocolate lover huh..." the portly male fox chuckled. "Tell me something, Missy? Can I get a name to go with the lovely face?"

The woman blinked her eyes, forcing her gaze from the baker's cocoa confection to look up. She met her fellow vulpine's blue orbs with her lovely brown eyes. "AH! Forgive my manners, Sir." She straightened up and settled her suitcase beside her. She then held her right hand out to him in greeting. "I'm Carmelita. Carmelita Montoya Fox. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" Especially if it turned out he made pie that tasted as good as it smelled!

Letting out a whistle, the chubby canid baker replied, "Well, shucks. You sure came a ways up from the border." He took her soft and smooth hand in his rough, calloused one and shook it. "I hope the travel's been treating you well."

The female red fox blinked her eyes a couple of times as she processed that comment. "Up from..." the vulpine policewoman trailed off before her eyes widened in understanding. "AH! No, no! I'm actually from Spain but I've been living and working in France for the past eight or so years now."

That caught the male fox by surprise in return. "Spain?" The man chuckled as he withdrew his hand so he could get to serving up her pie. "My, oh my... now _that_ is quite a long ways from here. I reckon you've seen a few dumb Americans go, 'I can get from here to Moscow in only two hours driving'," he said, quoting the old stereotype.

Carmelita laughed and shook her head in response. "If there are, I haven't met any. Although I've heard rumors, I feel being in Paris for nearly a decade has spared me from it," she admitted.

The male fox nodded his head. "Well now, I feel jess plain honored. You come all the gosh durn way from Paris and this pie's gonna be the first thing you have here?" He asked most curiously.

The woman nodded her head back at the man behind the booth. "Oh yes," she replied, trying to stick to English for his benefit. "The last meal I had was on the flight over the Atlantic. Only thing I've had since then were inflight drinks and peanuts. So something with a bit more substance would be appreciated."

Nodding his head in understanding, the male fox told her, "Well, it is a delight and a pleasure to make yer ack-quaint-aynce, Miss Fox." The man's Southern twang made itself readily apparent as he smiled at her. "But then, where are _MY_ manners. The name is Gideon Grey." He said as he took a moment to withdraw a knife from beneath the tabletop of the booth. As he began to slice up her pie, he continued, "I jess started my own bakery last year. Trying to find a way to work with the folks round here and make myself a part of the community a bit more than I have been." Seeing the woman reaching for a wallet, he held out his hand and shook his head in refusal. "No, no. Don't you fret about money there, Missy. This one's on the house!"

That caught the Hispanic woman by surprise. "Well... thank you!" She smiled gratefully to her fellow vulpine as she accepted the pie and took a slice out of it. "I feel a little guilty though..."

"Bah!" the portly red fox scoffed. "No worries, Miss. You jess think of it as a free sample. If you like what'chu eat, jess spread the word to anyone who asks." He smiled at her. "Best way to make money is advertising. And what better way to advertise than with satisfied customers?"

Carmelita offered him a smile in return. "Indeed!" The woman tilted her head and looked at him curiously as a thought occurred to her. This would actually be a decent chance to get an unbiased opinion. "Hey, can you tell me something, Mr. Grey?" Seeing the vulpine baker nod his head, the woman continued, "What do you think about Zootopia?"

The male fox blinked his bright blue eyes in surprise at the vixen's inquiry. "Zootopia? Well shoot now... I can't really say. I've never been; folks moved out here from the city before I was even born. But I ain't ever seen what the big deal was. I kind'a enjoy being a big fish in a small pond round here, you know?"

"Oh? So you consider yourself successful out here in Bunnyburrow?" The female red fox queried as Renato came up to the table, the panther holding out a ten dollar bill and motioning towards one of the two banana cream pies on the table.

Accepting the money from the feline gentleman, the portly Southern fox answered, "Well, I'm tryin' to anyhow. When I say big, I mean literally." He gave her a devilish grin. "I stand heads and shoulders above all the long-eared bunnies and short sheep around here. Just makes me the sort to really stand out in a crowd, ya dig?"

Carmelita nodded in acceptance. Such sentiment was easy enough to understand. "Well, that's always a benefit, right?"

The other fox nodded back at her. He looked left and right a couple of times before he leaned closer to the vixen and whispered. "Though jess between you and me? I'd rather jess avoid the big city. Too many people make me nervous." He leaned back and he let out a sigh. Cleaning off the knife with a towel he had on the table, he then went to cutting Renato's pastry. "I always had problems with crowds and... jess being the only major predator around here is more than enough to deal with. I'm comin' out of my shell more, found a lot of confidence with my baking. Not gonna lie though, Miss Fox. I was a _real_ hellion as a kid." He chuckled. "Kind of surprised the herbivores around here will do **any** business with me, actually."

The woman shook her head as the other fox handed the panther's pie to him. "We all need to find ourselves when we're younger..." the Hispanic vixen told the man behind the stall seriously. "At least you found a constructive way to work out your feelings. Anyone can break something, but it takes a special skill to be constructive. And I have a feeling that your pies and breads are something wonderful."

The man blushed through his facial fur deep enough that the new shade of red could be seen on his cheeks. "Well, shucks now... ya sure are kind with yer words, Miss Fox. You keep up that sweet talk an' I jess may give ya a free pie whenever yer pretty little self shows up."

"Hey now!" Renato called out as he looked up from his delightful pastry of banana custard and whipped cream. "I've been coming since you started and you never offered me any free pies!"

"Well you sure ain't as purty as she is neither," Gideon snapped back at the feline. "But all the same, thank ya fer bringing her over. Always nice to meet fellow foxes. I don't see too many of them out here in the Burrows."

Letting off a soft giggle at the banter between the two Carmelita shook her head good-naturedly before turning her attention to her lunch. She lifted a slide from the tin and took a bite of her pie. In less than a second, her eyes lit up from just that first mouthful. "NNNNNGH!" She cried out around the chocolaty goodness. It was like an _orgasm_ in her mouth! Without a doubt, it was the absolute best pie she'd had in her life!

At least she could come to terms with the truth by consoling herself with the fact Sly still made the best waffles.

Gideon couldn't help but puff up with pride at the woman's reaction. "Like it that much, huh?" The red fox chuckled a bit. "I get that reaction a lot from people who never had my pies before. You should have heard the purr that came out of Mr. Manchas here the first time he had one of my blueberry confections."

The panther shrugged his shoulders a little guiltily. "I couldn't help myself. Those were some damn good blueberries!"

Carmelita nodded her head, both in confirmation to the baker and understanding to her new panther friend as she swallowed the bite slowly. _Oh_ _ **damn**_ _! If I have to live here, at least there are pies like this to enjoy_. She was going to have to make sure that she got plenty of exercise if she came out here more than once a month. "Seriously, Mr. Grey! Don't you go selling yourself short. This is simply incredible!"

Gideon smiled wider at the praise. "My stall is open every day, but I make sure to bring out all the special pies on Saturday for the farmers' market. So make sure you drop by with that lovely fluffy tail of yers and we'll see how well I can knock yer socks off with even more flavors."

The Latina vixen turned her head to stare at him. Yes, it sounded like he was hitting on her... but for pie this good she'd put up with a few sweet words. "Deal!" She most happily proclaimed. "Any weekend my job gives me off, I'll be here!"

Grinning wider at the woman's jubilant reply, the portly vulpine nodded his head. "That's all I kin ask of ya." He chuckled as he watched the woman take another bite, making a churring sound as she did.

Renato merely shook his head as he laughed under his breath. "Oi... still can't believe it. I've been coming to your stall since you opened and you never gave me any free pies."

Gideon turned his attention towards the panther. "Again, no offence Mr. Manchas... yer just not as purty as Miss Fox here."

Carmelita laughed softly before taking another bite of the pie. "MMM~ **MMMM!** " Her body shivered and she nearly fell to her knees. If it was this good, the Hispanic red fox wondered if she was going to be able to get through this slice at all today. It was so heavenly, that she didn't want the pie to end!

But still, it called forth to her. And since Señor Manchas was eating his as well, the vixen figured she might as well do her best to enjoy her impromptu late lunch. Bite after bite of that pure, molten chocolate goodness helped the woman feel as if she were in cocoa nirvana. The vulpine woman had to admit, this was doing far more to ease her stress than any amount of sleep she'd managed to get in the past two months. "S'good," she murmured between bites...

...Only to slow down in her eating as she noticed a very young female bunny in a yellow sundress looking up at her, staring at the big pie she had in her hands. Always having had a soft spot for children, Carmelita smiled down at the kid and kneeled to get to her eye-level. "Hey, sweetie," she spoke softly to the little blonde-furred rabbit. "Would you like a slice of this pie?" She said as she held out the pastry towards the child.

Her bright blue eyes wide with delight, the little bunny nodded her head energetically and reached out towards the chocolate dessert... only to be stopped at the last second as an older, portlier brown-furred rabbit grabbed the younger one by her other arm and pull her away quickly. "Now what the heck are you doing, Melanie? You know better than to bother strangers like that! You don't even know what kind of person she is, she might have hurt you! Now come along, we're taking you back to the booth where it's safe from predators!"

The vulpine policewoman blinked her eyes at the tone the rabbit in denim overalls and green trucker cap snapped out with. "Hey! Excuse me, Sir!" She called out irritably as she quickly stood up. "It's just a pie from a local baker! If I want to share it's my right to—"

His eyes going wide as the female predator stood tall above him and one of his youngest daughters, the father rabbit's protective instinct kicked in. "Standing my ground!" The male bunny wailed at the top of his lungs as his right hand came forward with a pink TV remote-like device from one of his overall's pockets; a bright spark of light arcing in front of piece of equipment before he jammed it into the larger woman's abdomen.

Carmelita's eyes widened in horror as her body stiffened up in reaction to the severe amounts of electricity coursing through it. The initial, instant flex of her muscles was incredibly painful as any and all motor skills she had ceased to be in that instant, unable to even voice a scream. However, even as she dropped to the ground, the woman was completely cognizant of what was going on around here. It would have been strangest feeling in the world if it wasn't being overridden by the immense pain of the electric charge pulsing throughout her very being.

She wasn't able to think of much outside of the fact she was Tasered but one thing was certain. Even amidst all the intense agony she was going through, one idle thought managed to flitter its way through the back of the vulpine policewoman's consciousness. _So_ _ **THIS**_ _is how Sly felt all those times I managed to tag him with my shock pistol_...

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 **Author's Notes** : No matter how much I try, Zootopia keeps getting darker and darker. I can't help but wonder if this is how the staff felt when they first began working on the movie. When it comes to foreign language segments I'll try not to do such in the future but this time felt appropriate, to where if this were a film there would have been subtitles included as they spoke.

For those curious as to the two Latin mammals' conversation... 

Manchas: "Praise the lord! You have no idea how difficult it is to find someone who speaks Spanish this far North! Honestly it's a relief! I get so tired of sounding like an idiot! My grasp of English isn't as fluid as I would like."

Carmelita: "Not from around here, are you?"

Manchas: "Oh, I am. I may originally be from Venezuela but I work and live in the Tundratown District of Zootopia. I'm just returning from a trip back there to check up on my folks. How about you, Miss?"

Carmelita: "Fox. Carmelita Fox. I'm originally from Spain but I've been living in Paris for the past eight years. I'm going to be living in Zootopia for the next six months, Mister?"

Manchas: "Ah, a European. Surprised to see you this far out... Forgive me, Miss Fox. I am Renato Manchas. A pleasure to meet you."


	4. Is Paved in Good Intentions

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 4: ...Is Paved in Good Intentions

Despite its considerable size, a '71 Ford Lobos Edition Econoline van was quickly revving its way along the Route 13 highway that ran alongside a distance of the Zootopia Monorail System's Inner-Loop track thanks to its V8 engine and powertrain line. However, even if its performance was top-notch, the vehicle was definitely showing its age, what with one of its many pistons audibly misfiring, rust putting a jagged hole in the left underside of the back steel bumper, barely functioning exhaust port and muffler spewing out black smoke, a crack in the port window of the left side, duct tape around the middle of the broken radio antenna, and the driver's side door that was a completely unpainted and unsealed piece of bodywork that had twin trails of rust–one originating from the door handle and the other where the side mirror connected to said door–but it was still a thing of beauty. One of the previous owners at some point had gotten one of the sweetest paintjobs on the vehicle that had ever been! A lovely gold-flaked orange for the van frame's overall basecoat with the inclusion of imagery that invoked tribal themes, primal strength, and predator pride plastered over both sides of the body.

The design was that of giant golden disk of South American origin, particularly the Aztecs if the detailing that covered the drawn spherical tablet was accurate. A gray-furred coyote stood prominently before the symbol of power and wealth, the fur adorned in brightly colored, prestigious clothing. Gold pendants, feathers, furs, and other forms of decoration were used to show his station as a chief. In his arms, he held an arctic vixen, the lithe and luscious female form in a swooning position worthy of the 1940's pinups models, while clad in a sheer, blue silk dress while adorning her lithe and lovely frame was all kinds of jewelry such as necklaces, turquoise earrings, and bracelets and anklets of solid gold. It was a paintjob that screamed the wild and free spirit of the late 60's and the driver within.

And all of that artistry was placed atop a heavy-duty chassis with a twin I-beam styled front truck suspension; the latter needing new shock absorbers. It was a good thing that it was a vehicle designed not only for paved roads but rougher terrain if need be because the exit the van took as it exited off of Route 13 was the Hill Street Exit...

Or as the locals came to know it... **Hell Street**. As one went further from the highway, the scenery became something like that out of a post-apocalyptic horror film. The van–particularly with its own wear and tear–wouldn't have been out of place among the metallic building fixtures and abandoned vehicles that littered the landscape, left to rust and gather dust and vines. The concrete sidewalks and asphalt road were also showing age, the paved ground giving way to greenery; the only other vibrant splashes of color in the area were that of the graffiti left behind by the disrespectful and spiteful. Not a soul was to be seen on the main drag as the van passed by closed business and former homes that were boarded up with the occasional broken window and spray-painted specist slur decorating the deteriorating structures.

As the vehicle went further in, the neighborhood became more of a momentous expanse of urban decay; everything in this forsaken area having fallen into disrepair and decrepitude. While it would have been so easy to merely blame it on the city council's neglect and rampant vandalism, it was the area's close proximity to the Rainforest District that was ringing the death knell. There was a continuous encroachment of plant-life seeping in from the heavy vegetation and with no active services or interest in urban renewal in the section of the city that was Zootopia's dirty little secret, the growth went unheeded. So even as the tangible remains of buildings and landmarks still stood prevalent, nature was winning the battle in reclaiming the nearly deserted area of the Downtown that its former residents once knew as the Happytown District.

However, as if to defy the battle Mother Nature was putting up, there was one area in the seemingly abandoned part of Zootopia that appeared to be thriving... for the most part, anyway. At the Northernmost section of the district was a cobblestone bridge, the pathway built in an arch as to reach over a brook and into to a considerable plot of land that bordered on the Rainforest District. Despite being so close to the source of the vegetation that threatened to hide the misdeeds of Zootopia's past with time, the land was properly landscaped and cleaned of the refuse that littered the decaying neighborhood ruins. Settled on overall cleanly homestead was a trio of structures. A steel, and slightly rusty water tower, a barn that was covered in a rather faded coat of red paint that was beginning to peel, and a single-story home of simple, utilitarian design that was popularized in the late 40's and early 1950's, with returning servicemen starting new families. While the ranch house looked as though it had seen better days, it was still sturdy and habitable. 

Slowing down as it went over the stone bridge, the '71 Ford van eventually came to a complete stop near the barn. After a moment more, the driver's side door to the vehicle opened and the small frame of a male vulpine jumped out. It was a bit of a fall for him due to his tiny size, but he landed perfectly and with that surprising amount of grace foxes were known for, even fennecs such as him. Yet even as he stood as tall as his petite frame would allow for, his short stature was still something that would make most animals assume many things about him.

But the moment those sunglasses came off and one's eyes met his, orbs which burned with the coloration of an amber corona of sunset and held nothing but utter contempt for everyone and everything, those assumptions disappeared.

It wasn't just the smooth style of clothing he wore–the button-up black shirt with red stripe that made it resemble a bowling shirt more than an office one, the pure white t-shirt under it, or the green shorts. Oh no. It was his eyes and the way he walked, the very presence he projected. He was a mammal who had seen much–probably done more. He was someone who anyone would just know was dangerous and would protect what he saw as important.

But the eyes conveyed one more thing, the darker fur around them hinting that even now, he was looking around, trying to discern if there was any ass–the buttocks, not the insensitive specist slur for donkeys–he could take a moment to kick first before he could feel good about being roped into helping the smarmy prick just exiting the passenger's side of his precious van. "I swear to God, Nick..." the fennec called out in a deep, booming baritone that would have been more appropriate on an animal ten-times his size. "You owe me for hauling your shit out of the Rainforest District. Place is damp as shit and the mold gives me such a fucking a sinus headache." He snarled. "Not to mention all that water just ruins my van." 

"Please," the taller vulpine scoffed as he closed the passenger's side door. Coming around to the back, the red fox fiddled with the handle on one of the two back doors that made up the entrance into the rear portion of the vehicle. "I thought you'd be more upset about returning to the old neighborhood." He pulled open the metal door, being careful not to make it come off the hinge as he then reached over to open the next one. "Now get your fluffy little tail over here and help me get the ramp down. The sooner we unload my stuff into Honey's barn, the sooner we can get back to work and you get your extra five-percent cut!"

His eyes narrowing, the short-statured canid moved towards the back of his Ford Lobos where his came upon his fellow hustler was standing in the back, kneeling down to try and get the semi-rusted joints of the ramp's track to function. "You mean ten-percent, don't you, Wilde?" He growled menacingly... also a noise that should have been coming from a rather nasty predator at least ten-times the size of the fennec; not counting the male fox's impressive ears.

Rolling his eyes at the show of aggression from his partner-in-cri— _ **law bending**_ , the crimson-furred pred in Hawaiian shirt replied, "Fine, fine. It'll be an extra ten-percent cute of today's profits, Finnick." He then stood up and motioned to the rusted sliding track of the ramp. "Now, do you mind giving me a hand with this?" He idly kicked at it with his right foot in frustration. "I can't get it slide out of place."

A smile soon spread across the short desert fox's muzzle. "Good, because I got plans to take my sweet Cherry out on a date with that extra cash," the small mammal replied before be climbed up onto the rusted back bumper of his van and stepped into the back. "You just don't have the touch, so please! Step out of my way and watch the master at work, Wilde!" Pushing the other vulpine away from where he needed to be, the small animal reached out with his left hand and clenched his fingers into a fist. He then rapped on the wall of the van with his knuckles once, twice, thrice...

...And the ramp suddenly sprang into action. Coming free, the metal plate unfolded and slid out quickly, slamming so hard onto the ground that the edge of it practically embedded itself in the grass and dirt. Now firmly settled into place from the metal extension's weight, the platform would make unloading the back of Finnick's vehicle easier for the two of them.

Turning about in place, the fennec couldn't help but smirk condescendingly at the red fox. "See? Easy as pie. Handling a classic like this is no different from handling a fine woman..." his smirk widened. "But then, you haven't really ever been all that good with women, have you, Wilde?" He chuckled, feeling pride in getting one over on the supposed master hustler. "Not like me and Cherry, that's for _damn_ certain."

The male vulpine twitched at the mention of the arctic vixen. "Yeah, yeah... whatever!" He grumbled irritably as he reached out for the steel hand-truck that was kept in the back of the Ford. He then turned about, attempting to get the bottom lip underneath his desk. "You can spend your money however you want but I find that women are more trouble than they're worth..." he murmured sadly as he tilted the hand-truck back, lifting his main piece of furniture off the floor of the van.

Stepping aside so that his semi-friend could start rolling the furniture out of his van/home, the small vulpine picked the other fox's suitcase and followed after him. "Oh, don't be that way. You only think that about women because they don't put up with your bullshit, Nick," the sandy-furred canid said in all seriousness, remembering exactly how Wilde's relationship with Gwen ended–the gearhead vixen turning lesbian. "And speaking of women, you sure Honey said it was okay for you to use her barn to store your stuff?" Despite his rather gruff, no-nonsense attitude towards life, the old woman still had a place in even his heart of stone.

"Positive," the experienced conman replied as he wheeled the desk across the badger's property, being careful not to tip over the work-space that doubled as his bed. "I called her earlier. She said to bring my stuff on over and to come back and share dinner with her." He smiled sadly. "I don't mind though. Been a month since I was able to make my way out here to spend time with, 'Ma'..." he trailed off as he set the desk down a few feet from the entrance of the barn. Walking up to the pair of wooden doors, he grasped the wooden plank that was hanging on a peg on either door and attempted to remove it. "Hey, would you give me a hand with this?"

Snorting in annoyance, the smaller fennec set down Nick's suitcase and walked over to where he was standing. "Fine. Just hand it over to me. I'll help you put it aside," he told his fellow hustler as he went to stand beside him.

"Grazie," he thanked the desert fox in Italian... as to be a cultured showoff before he let one end of the wooden plank drop into the small vulpine's hands. Nick then went around to the other door and lifted the wooden board off, freeing the door of the makeshift restraint that was used to keep the entrance closed. "Now come on, this way little buddy!"

Finnick's eyes seemed to blaze for a moment. " **Stop calling me little!** " he snapped at the taller fox, but nonetheless moved with him to get the plank out of the way. Once they had, he went back over to retrieve the other vulpine male's suitcase while Nick himself pulled open the set of wooden barriers that acted as the doors for Honey's barn.

As the entrance was opened, the two could see what lay inside the old barn. It was dim and dusky, the darkness within pierced by thin shafts of light that managed to shine through the roughly hewn cracks in the building's wooden framework. The slivers of illumination caused the spider-webs that were placed along the ceiling rafters to shimmer and shine with an almost haunting beauty. Random bits of straw were strewn about the dust and dirt of the ground beneath the feet of the two vulpine men as they started to head within, making their way towards a series of old but sturdy wooden pallets that were placed further inside the old structure.

"There they are," Nick chirruped as he motioned towards the wooden structures. "Those are where Honey wanted me to drop off my stuff."

Looking over towards the pallets, the short-stack fennec turned his head to look up at his fellow vulpine. "It's surprisingly roomy in here..." he murmured with surprise. "I mean, I didn't expect it to be so barren. Considering what her bunker's like, I thought this place would've been filled with all sorts of assorted crap so one could make it through the end of the world."

Shrugging his shoulders, the red fox turned and made his way back outside. As his somewhat-friend followed him, he explained, "It was Harold that wanted to retire to a farm after his idea took off and it was his time. Honey just wanted to be a housewife..." he sighed wistfully. "She doesn't have much use for the barn but she's not going to get rid of it as it reminds her of him."

Nodding his head in understanding, the fennec could only sigh. "I hear that..." he murmured as he headed over to grab his friend's suitcase. "You know, she really does think kindly of you, Nick. You should take her up on the offer to use her house… or at least the friggin' barn to sleep in!" He raised his left hand and thumbed over his shoulder towards the structure. "I could see you setting up in there and continuing with business as usual."

"Maybe," Nick agreed. "Except for two reasons," he was quick to add as he tilted the slightly rusted hand-truck back to get the desk raised onto the wheels once more. "First things first, I'll tell you what I told Honey... mom visits here. I'm not going to risk running into her." The finality to his voice meant he wanted no argument on that matter. He'd heard enough from both the shorter fox and the honey badger over the years. No matter how much they fretted over it, he needed to get them to realize he wasn't running from his past on this matter. Far from it!

He wanted to protect one of the most precious things he had left from it.

Frowning in annoyance, the short fox hefted the suitcase and made his way in after his pal. Seeing the man stepping onto the pallet and fighting to pull the hand-truck with him up onto it, the small mammal queried, "And the other reason?"

Taking a deep breath, the red fox put all his strength into tugging forward. Fortunately though, he had just enough power in his upper body to get the wheels turning and up onto the wooden frame with him. Exhaling deeply, Nick set it down. "And the second reason..." he gasped for breath as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the cloth monogramed with the initials _NPW_ , the male vulpine replied, "Honey thinks I'm too good for it. Says I wasn't raised in a barn, so I shouldn't live in one."

Finnick couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Oh? Too good, are you?" Releasing his hold of the suitcase, the smaller fox raised his hands out and motioned around him with his arms. "She thinks this place is bad? You were living in a _boiler room_ before this for cryin' out loud! Does she really believe a barn is gonna be torture for you or something?"

Shaking his head, Nick told his good acquaintance, "Nah... I think it's because she knows what I've been through... and feels she'd just be making my situation worse if she had me hiding out in a barn when there's a nice house to use." Not that he could blame the woman for her protectiveness but the vulpine hustler had gotten used to a certain truth a long time ago.

In Zootopia, being a fox was a living hell.

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"Señorita!" The shout managed to pierce through the cloudy haze that filled the vixen's skull and muddled her thoughts. "Señorita Fox! You okay?" Carmelita winced as she felt her body jostled. It took her a moment to realize the panther was shaking her by the shoulder as the ability to process cognizant thought began to speed up once more as the pain from the electric shock receded. Her eyes blinked once, twice, thrice... before her mouth was finally able to catch up with what her brain was telling it to convey to the feline fretting over her.

"...Qué mierda me golpeó?" Carmelita queried in a non-too-polite way in her native tongue.

The ebony-furred jaguar blinked his emerald eyes as he realized the woman was starting to come out of it. "What hit you? Loco bunny with a Taser! **That** is what hit you!" He cried out as he rolled the vixen onto her back. He brought up his right hand before her field of vision before querying, "Tell me: how many fingers am I holding up, Señorita Fox?"

The woman crossed her eyes for a moment as she tried to focus on his hand. As her chocolate orbs began to settle and the blurriness in her vision cleared, the woman took a breath to steady her voice. "...Two..." she finally replied calmly.

Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Renato nodded his head in relief. "Good. You seem a bit with it. How you feeling, Señorita Fox? Need help sitting up?" Even as he said that, he was already offering the woman his paw.

Staring at Mr. Mancha's ebony-furred hand, Carmelita nodded her head and reached out with her own. Taking hold, she allowed him to help pull her back up to her feet. "Now I know how all those mosquitoes felt when my family would put the bug zapper out in the summertime," she muttered as she staggered slightly. "Good thing I wasn't wet." She didn't even bother looking for the pie, knowing that was ruined–unless someone magically slipped in and grabbed the confectionary before it hit the ground that is.

The panther nodded his head. "No kidding. That would have made it even worse for everyone." Being a local of the Rainforest District, the Hispanic jaguar knew how problematic it was when an overzealous police officer pulled out an electrical device in the **pouring rain**. No one was a happy camper when it happened.

"Hey now," another familiar male voice spoke up from outside of the vixen's field of vision. "Is Carmelita gonna be all right? She took a mighty bad fall there." There was the sound of someone clucking their tongue. "Mr. H done Tasered her but good."

Turning her head towards the source, the woman managed to smile as she realized it was her fellow vulpine, the redheaded male looking on nervously. "I... I'm going to be all right. Don't you worry, Gideon. I've had worse." Admittedly though, she had never been on the receiving end of an electronic weapon's discharge. Sure, criminals fired back at her constantly, but this had been the first time she'd actually gotten _hit_. The only other time someone got the drop on her was when Neyla and the Contessa had managed to frame her as an accomplice to the Cooper Gang... not even she could face off against a contingent of crooked cops all by herself.

However, in this case... something was very off about the situation. While it was true that the bunny's speed in acting had been the main factor, the Hispanic vixen hadn't reacted in time not because it was a strange variation of Taser that she was unfamiliar with but by what was _written_ on it. "Did... I mean... was that thing actually called, _**Fox Away**_?"

The black-furred jaguar suddenly looked very uncomfortable. He looked over to Gideon, who merely nodded his head. Taking a deep breath, the Latino feline sighed sadly. "Sí," Renato finally replied. "A lot of foxes are... shall we say, blamed... rightfully or not... for a lot of problems around here. And, well..." he looked back and forth, even though he knew it was no use trying to be discreet. With all these rabbits' enhanced hearing, he might as well say it. "Bunnies aren't known for being able to stand up for themselves. They are normally timid and easily startled. A few other things get mixed together in all this and..."

The vixen brought her hand up before him, halting the jaguar's stilted explanation. "I get the picture," Carmelita muttered softly. She was disappointed to find that even outside of the city proper, the mindset of, 'us versus them' had firmly taken root. "I'm just going to guess that such sentiment got to the point where it's big business?"

Nodding his head, the panther once more replied, "Sí. The Pred Away Co. is big business in Downtown District. They made all kinds of things to level the field: Maces, Air-Horns, Tasers..." he shuddered, memories of his own experiences with such products coming to the forefront of his mind. "All of it designed for maximum effect towards specific breeds of predators. As you experienced first-hand, that includes a line of equipment specifically geared towards self-defense against foxes."

The Hispanic vixen twitched. "You people **do** realize that anywhere else in the world, that would be a Hate Crime, right?"

Both the Hispanic jaguar and the rotund red fox looked at each other, the mammal locals unsure of how to answer that.

Catching onto the uncomfortable air between the pair with what happened, Carmelita let off a depressed sigh. "I get it. A Hate Crime everywhere _but_ here..." she grumbled irritably. Letting off a depressed sight, the vulpine beauty shook her head in disgust, making her navy blue tresses flutter about. Finally, she looked over to Gideon and queried, "Hey, Mr. Grey?"

The portly pie-man perked up at hearing the woman address him directly. "Yes? What kin I do ya fer, Miss Fox?" He replied politely, his Southern drawl ever-apparent. He gave her a small, sad smile. "Iffin' it's about yer pie... I kin give ya one of the others. It's jess that was my only chocolate I had on hand."

Shaking her head, the woman replied, "No, that's all right but thank you for offering. Besides, this isn't about the pie. Just tell me..." she took a deep breath to calm herself. The female red fox still managed to speak in a whisper so hopefully only the two predators near her would have been able to hear... and boy, did they hear a growl in the woman's tone. "Who was the guy that just Tasered a _police officer_?"

Both men straightened up in surprise at that proclamation, staring at the woman in complete and utter shock. It was Mr. Manchas who managed to voice their bewilderment as he responded, "Es la mujer policía?" The tone of his voice and full Spanish dialect was enough to convey how surprised he was to learn that.

The vixen nodded her head in response to her fellow Hispanic mammal. She then turned her chocolate gaze towards the portly male fox. "So please, tell me. Do you know?"

Gulping nervously, Gideon couldn't help but ask, "Uh... Miss... I mean Off—"

The woman held up her hand towards the other fox now, halting him. "Miss Fox or Carmelita is fine. Honestly, _this_ is why I didn't want to bring it up. I want to see how people would treat me beforehand, when they think I'm just another person like every other mammal." As she lowered her hand, she frowned more. "At the very least, I do want to talk to that rabbit about jumping to conclusions... why assuming makes an ass out of him."

A nearby donkey snorted in annoyance. He may not have been listening to the conversation, but he always had a floppy ear out for specist slurs towards him. "Bitch..." he muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to the stand selling hand-knitted quilts and blankets.

The baker let off a small sigh. He could already tell this wasn't going to end well but he could at least try to mitigate some of the damage if he could get her to understand. "That was Mr. H—that is, Stu Hopps," the vulpine extrapolated. "He's the current patriarch of the Hopps family and head of the Hopps Family Farm. He's rather protective of all two-hundred and seventy-six children of his, so it shouldn't be a surprise that they're a big part of this community... heck, some say their family even founded it." He shrugged. "So iffin' yer gonna say somethin' do be all polite and all to 'em, okay? I don't want'cha to suffer from more trouble."

Bringing her right hand up to her face, the female red fox rubbed her forehead in an effort to avert an oncoming headache. _Just great_ , she mentally groaned. _Even in rural communities, politics are still at place_. Lowering her hand, she turned to Gideon and told him, "Don't worry, I understand, thank you." The worst she was going to do was just tell the jerk to show a little restraint in the future. She wasn't some hot-headed fool.

Really!

...

...Okay, **maybe** a couple years ago, sure, she would have busted out the badge and cuffs and arrested him for what he did–which was still a tempting option–but she knew there were other ways to handle these situations.

Tact, diplomacy, and keeping a cool head were all required for this.

And if all of that failed, she could still issue a warrant for his arrest for Tasering an officer... or rather, threaten him with arrest. She may have still been an Inspector of Interpol and a soon-to-be-police officer of Zootopia but she had no contact with either department at the moment, particularly the ZPD which would have been the one to handle it. So at the moment, a stern warning or lecture would do as well.

So taking a deep breath, the vixen made sure to get the strap of her satchel over her right shoulder and took hold of her suitcase with her left hand again before making her way into the farmers' market a bit more. The Latina woman was careful as she gazed about, being certain to get a good look at the faces around as there were numerous rabbits manning nearly every stall and booth on the fair grounds. She came across stands with signs for fresh fruit, homemade jellies, carrot cakes, carrots-on-a-stick, even an entrance to a corn maze...

But then she saw it. On the outskirt of it all was one very prominent stand. While most of the families working the grounds had transportable collapsible tarp and aluminum structures for easy disassembly and reassembly, this booth was a solidly built structure. Wood, nails, paint, and a hand-carved sign all came together to proclaim it as the market spot for the Hopps Family Farm. _Dang! Gideon wasn't been kidding when he said they were a prominent family in Bunnyburrow_ , Carmelita thought as she got closer. Carefully, the vixen schooled her features into a pleasant smile as she made her way towards the front of the Hopps' stand. Catching sight of a slightly chubby adult female rabbit with gray pelt and lovely violet eyes dressed in a pink shirt and denim skirt fretting over one of the numerous kids, the vulpine policewoman called out, "Hola! Is Mr. Hopps here?"

Finishing bandaging the skinned elbow of one of her youngest sons, the woman called out, "Not at the moment." Giving her child one more check over and seeing her little boy was okay, the older woman gently scooted him off to play with his siblings before turning to face the source of the female voice. "Stu headed out to find where one of our youngest got... to..." she trailed off as she saw the tall female fox standing there with a few bags. "Oh... uh... hello?" She greeted nervously, bring a hand up and waving at her in greeting. "What can I do for you today?"

"Oh, nothing much... I just wanted to talk." Carmelita answered as she tried to keep her voice at an even tone. She really didn't want to get this bunny upset either. Best way to play diplomat was to make sure that everyone was as relaxed as possible, even if the situation didn't call for it.

An angry fox around dozens of nervous rabbits was not the way to go. Besides, she didn't want to risk the possibility of dealing with a **bunch** of Tasers all at once!

"Is... is that so?" The motherly lapin asked quietly, seeing if she could glean anything from the female vulpine. So, turning on a little charm, the female rabbit offered the other woman a smile, both to ease her children that were looking on with wide eyes as well at the possibly dangerous predator. "But dear me, where are _my_ manners? I'm Bonnie Hopps, co-proprietor of Hopps Family Farms." Despite how dangerous it felt, she ignored her screaming instincts and still held out her hand in greeting. It was only proper. "And you, ma'am?"

Offering the obvious mother a much gentler and natural smile, the Hispanic vixen reached out and took the hand, courteously returning the offer to shake. "Carmelita Montoya Fox. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hopps." She carefully withdrew her hand, pleased that she was off to a **much** better foot with the matriarch of the Hopps family. "And don't worry, it's nothing bad. I just—"

"Hey! What the heck is going on here!?" A male voice shouted out, interrupting the two. The pair turned to see the patriarch of the rabbit clan, and boy, he was hopping mad! "So! Trying to sweeten up my child wasn't enough for you, huh? What are you planning to do with my wife?" Stu Hopps demanded to know. The same fox that tried to attack him and his child earlier was now messing with his wife as an obvious way to get back at him and he wasn't going to stand for it one bit! Oh yes, she was obviously a troublemaker, just like all foxes and worse, a vengeful one. After all, he had Tasered the fox earlier!

Although, now that he thought about it, the rabbit realized he should have told those other two preds that were with her to have the fox stay away so it wouldn't happen again. He supposed another abject lesson would be in order to get the point across.

Rolling her eyes, the vixen inhaled deeply and counted backwards from ten. She wouldn't blow up. She could be more responsible and adult than some backwards, backwater hick. "Look, Mr. Hopps." The female red fox began as she turned to the source of the heated voice. She looked down and saw the small brown rabbit standing there, glaring up at her angrily as his hand firmly held onto that of the little girl she'd met earlier at Gideon's stand earlier. "I wanted you to know that I understand things are tense around here... but you can't just go Tasering someone for offering your daughter a slice of pie!"

"Taser?" Bonnie chimed out in surprise. She looked over to her husband with an expression of bewilderment. "Stu, did you shock someone with that Fox Away of... yours... oh dear..." she whispered, her words trailing off as the realization of what was going on hit her like a sack of bricks. A fox coming out of nowhere wanting to speak to her husband specifically and she brings up him pulling that fool thing of his out and worse, _using_ it? "Stewart Benjamin Hopps! Did you shock this poor woman!?"

"But Bon-Bon, she was trying to give our daughter some pie!" He explained to his wife as he motioned towards the taller vulpine with his free hand. "At the very least, strangers shouldn't be offering sweet little children they don't know sugary treats! That can only lead to unmarked white vans and Chris Hamsen on a To Catch a Predator special on ZBC!"

Carmelita took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that side of things but don't you think sometimes people can be nice for the sake of it?"

"Please! Don't think me so naïve," Stu scoffed at her. "Being nice for the sake of being nice? Someone's always looking to find something to get ahead in life. And even if you were just trying to be nice, how was I supposed to know? You could have been some scummy kidnapper who wanted money and was using that pie to kidnap my child!"

The vixen twitched at the accusation flung at her. "Oh right! Like I'm some big bad kidnapper! Oh yes, so daring and evil! Yep, that's me, willing to kidnap little bunnies in broad daylight in front of hundreds of witness!" She huffed back at the man. "Give me a break, Mr. Hopps!" She snapped irritably, quite a bit harsher than she meant to but he was trying her patience. "Your first response was to pull a darned Taser on me because I _dared_ to talk back at you for talking smack to my face! I mean, what kind of mammal simply throws civilized discussion to the wayside and immediately attacks!?"

"Well, one can't be too careful with a Chomper!" The male rabbit was quick to retort. "You can ask anyone and they'd agree with me on that! It's a biological quirk with your predators! Who knows when you might revert to instincts that have been ingrained in you for thousands of years and try to eat a poor, innocent rabbit?"

Staring down at him in shock, the Latina vulpine proclaimed, "Chomper? CHOMPER!?" She shouted. "Are you really so ass-backwards—"

A nearby mule raised her head and gave the vixen a dirty look.

"—in your outlook that you can only see things in an, 'us and them' mentality!? That sort of thinking went the way of the Dodo back in the Seventies for a reason! GOD!" She cried out in frustration. "I can't believe you would look at me and only see me for a predator!"

Just as the vulpine woman finished saying that that, her whole world was suddenly engulfed in pain; the side of her head throbbing as stars exploded across her vision before she was encompassed by the sensation of flying through the air–everything spinning around her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her bright violet eyes wide with excitement and hope, a young rabbit with a lithe build and covered in a pelt of gray fur with a lighter shade on her underbelly that reached up to her muzzle and covered her hands like a pair of gloves walked about the grounds of the farmers' market, her gaze drawn to the document gripped tightly in her paws. Both her pink nose twitching and long black-tipped ears pointing up and standing tall were signs of how ecstatic she was about the paperwork in her grasp. Ever since she was a child, the female bunny had wanted to make something of her life instead of being another stereotypical carrot farmer. More than anything else, she wanted to go to Zootopia and become a police officer!

Sure, her parents always told her to settle, that things would work themselves out. Little did she realize that her folks had indeed been correct when they gave her that advice. _Just not in the way they intended_ , the female bunny thought with glee, her smile widening as she continued to gaze down upon the papers. An application form for the Zootopia Police Academy... one that was already stamped with the seal of Zootopia City Hall. It had been pre-approved for her as part of the upcoming Mammal Inclusion Initiative. All the lapin lady had to do was fill in her personal information in the blank spaces and mail it out to receive her acceptance letter to begin the life she always dreamed off: Zootopia's first rabbit police officer.

Really, of all the times she had to work the farmers' market, who knew that one day it would hold the key to the future she deserved? Sure, the booth that had been set up was rather chintzy but the nicely-dressed sheep behind the counter had been very kind and so insightful; more than willing to answer all her questions! The positive attitude the woman had was simply infectious and it just drew her in. While the bunny could admit to being initially worried that she was being scammed, it was when she found out that the woman was the Assistant Major the rabbit knew the booth was legitimate... and more than that, this was her chance to prove that bunnies weren't just cute and timid little creatures to the rest of the world!

And yes, she could say, 'cute'. Bunny privileges and all that...

"I can't wait to tell my folks," she whispered with barely restrained happiness. She took a moment to fold the paper into four parts before sliding it into her pocket before taking off to talk with her parents about this. Sure, they were likely going to be upset when she told them but they were also very supportive. Once they realized that she had an in with the police academy, they would get behind her one hundred-percent of the way!

And besides, making Zootopia a better place was always a noble goal. She couldn't wait to do her part to make things right! Maybe there would be a big drug bust right after she got on the job, a robbery, her father being harassed by a fox, a high speed car chase, a—

The little lapin lady paused in her tracks at one of the scenarios that passed through her head sent the woman's train of thought violently careening off the mental rails. "...Wait a minute! Father being harassed by a fox?" She muttered aloud as she looked on ahead and saw yes, there was a vixen who looked like she was arguing with her father. "What the heck?" The bunny whispered under her breath as her ears were turned towards the group. The female rabbit's eyes widened in fear as the beast openly admitted, 'I'm some big bad kidnapper'! Her gaze turning towards her father, the girl's heart leapt in her chest as she saw that the older rabbit was all that stood between the vicious fox and little Melanie!

The rabbit immediately began running across the market grounds at top speed. Her violet eyes were focused on the tall vixen who seemed to be trying to bully her father into surrendering her youngest sister. Well, she'd show that bitch! She'd show her what happened when someone so brazenly tried to hurt her family out in the open like this! No one would escape the righteous justice of the best future ZPD officer: Judy Hopps!

With the velocity of her sprint reaching its apex, the small lapin waited until she was at the proper distance before throwing herself into in air while tucking her body up into a ball. The result was a gray-furred bunny flying like a speeding projectile of justice! Her knees pulled tight to her chest as she spun forward, she waited before lashing out with a harsh kick with both feet at the last moment; the combined force of the action and the speed of the flight having a synergetic effect to pack one hell of a wallop!

Judy smiled gleefully in victory as she felt the firm impact against the soles of her feet and the sound of a solid smack reached her ears. She flipped in mid-air before landing on the ground with her feet and right hand in a three-point stance, watching as the dangerous fox went sailing across the farmers' market. The rabbit felt so proud at the tableau of silence that followed, eyes drawn to the vile vulpine that went spinning as she continued to go flying before the insidious vixen finally came violently crashing into one of the stands further way. _Mental note_ , the lapin thought to herself. _Apologize to the Murkles for the damage done to their stand_.

However, the pride she felt at a job well done was soon replaced by confusion. "Oh no!" Judy heard her mother cry in shock and despair. "This is going to get very bad!"

"No it won't!" Her father retorted and pushed Melanie towards the stall to get to the safety of the family. "Judy, thank you for your help but why did you suddenly do that?" He queried as he turned towards his eldest daughter. "You could have gotten hurt! I mean, what if that fox had helpers nearby? They might have decided to... I don't know... avenge her or something!"

The energetic rabbit turned to face her frantic father. "But dad," the younger female tried to argue. "She was getting all up in your face and she said she was a big bad kidnapper and she—"

"Happens to be getting up," Judy's mom firmly pointed out, interrupting whatever excuse her daughter was trying to come up with. Bonnie sighed as she shook her head in disapproval. "And things were going so well too..." she said in a disappointed tone.

Carmelita groaned as she lay in the ruins of one of the stalls, a bunch of bunnies remained standing around her, all in various states of shell-shock. The female red fox's hand reached about before pushing a large plank of wood off of her. _Okay, the Taser before had sucked but that was just plain_ _ **brutal**_. Forcing herself into a sitting position, the Hispanic woman brought her right hand to the side of her face... and hissed as a dull hum of pain became an unbearable sting. "Shit..." she cursed through gritted teeth, feeling a throb of agony pulsate in her jaw. She was going to be lucky if a nasty bruise was all she had to deal with from that hit.

Slowly, the vixen got back to her feet rather unsteadily... her eyes fluttered open and closed for a moment before they came to focus on a female rabbit was coming towards her. Amidst the blue hairs of her bangs, she caught sight of a grey-pelted thing decked out in an outfit that consisted of a teal short-sleeved shirt with lavender on the lower sleeves and hem as well as a pair of black pants. She was surprised for a moment as the bunny took up a brawler's stance, obviously ready to fight. "Had enough or are you thirsty for more?" She said in an almost cocky fashion.

Blinking her chocolate eyes at the noise, the Latina vixen used her hand to push some of her navy blue tresses out of her line of sight so she could get a better look. Yes, it was indeed a young female bunny that was obviously the one who got the drop on her. Carmelita was about to open her mouth and demand to know what the hell was going on when there was a loud rip; the strap of her satchel breaking as the strain of the impact was too much. As it slammed into the ground one of the top leather flap's buckles popped open and a number of her personal items came falling out or went rolling away.

"... Mierda mi vida..." the canid woman cursed as she knelt down to grab her possessions, such as her phone, many pictures be they personal or work-related, the manila folder that Bentley had put together for her...

And yet, Judy's eyes were drawn to the golden item that fell out and came to a stop near her foot. She idly kicked it over, revealing it to be the gold shield of a police badge adorned with a star that held a central emblem of the world within a wreath and a sword behind it. Her violet eyes went wide with shock as she read the inscriptions engraved upon it. "Criminal Investigation? **Department of Interpol**? _**Special Agent**_!?"

Carmelita groaned and tenderly rubbed the side of her face in exasperation. Well, looked like the cat was out of the bag, wasn't it? "Yes. I was _trying_ to keep a low profile to see how things were around here..." the Hispanic vulpine answered as she twitched in irritation. Her head may have been pulsing in pain but she felt a small sense of satisfaction as she saw the utter horror dawning on both the rabbit that was in front of her and the one who Tasered her. "After all, people tend to act differently around cops." Unless they were smooth or really capable–or both like Sly had been–but very few mammals had those qualities. "I'll give you credit, though. I haven't taken a hit that hard since my days back in training."

"I... I..." Judy gulped nervously, trying to steel her nerves as the vixen seemingly ignored her in favor of gathering her things. "I didn't know..." she finally managed to whisper out. She kneeled down and took hold of the badge. She held it in her hand, feeling the weight of it, both that of the physical metal and the authority it represented. "I'm sorry... I saw you arguing with my father and then I managed to overhear you say you were a kidnapper and..." she cringed. "I'm sorry!" She apologized again as she held the badge out to the vulpine.

Raising her head, Carmelita stared at the nervous bunny for a moment. She stared long and hard before finally speaking. "Assault and battery of a police officer, at best, brings the penalty of a hundred and fifty dollar fine and approximately a six month stint in jail. At worst it can result in a ten year prison sentence."

Judy cringed as the canid cop dropped that proverbial bomb on her. How was _she_ supposed to know this woman was an international police officer? "But... but..." she sputtered out, trying to and unable to find a way to excuse herself for what happened. Darn it! She couldn't let her dream of being an officer of the ZPD die here!

"Then there's the fact that I'm pretty sure I was treated the way I was _because I'm a_ _ **fox**_." The Interpol policewoman gave a sharp look, not at Judy, but at her father Stu. The older rabbit at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I have almost no reason not to bust you and that man and take you both down to the nearest station for what you've done."

The lapin woman felt incredibly small as the vixen stood up... smaller than she had when she got into her first fight with Gideon Grey at the Annual Carrot Festival so many years ago. Whereas before it was just a bully abusing his physical superiority, this was a woman who had the proper authority to pursue justice as she saw fit... and honestly, the rabbit couldn't blame her if she did.

Judy's dream was over just as it finally begun.

Seeing the tears start to well up in the smaller woman's eye, the vixen let off a very tired sigh. "Look, in your case I understand a little..." she said as she took her badge back from the rabbit. She then turned away from the trembling bunny and knelt down to stuff it back into her satchel. The Latina woman frowned as she saw the metal anchor which was used to hook an end of the strap to the bag itself had completely torn free from the container. Sighing, the canid woman shook her head before sliding the strap back in through the tear that was sized to the anchor's base and brought it on up and out through the top, doing her best to try and knot it together with the rest of the strap for some stability and functionality. "You thought someone was attacking and you went to defend your family..." she frowned as she began tying. "However, that was based on an assumption... one that revolved around the fact that I'm a fox."

"No it didn't!" A bewildered Judy tried to argue. Seeing the woman she had socked as hard as she could with her feet glaring at her, the petite bunny attempted to explain, "I know there are bad people... and there can be some bad people who happen to be foxes... but I know more than anyone that not all foxes are bad. I'm the most progressive person in my family!"

"...I find that people who defend themselves by saying what they're like politically or socially can sometimes be the worst offenders of what they're trying to distance themselves from." Carmelita replied as she slid the knotted strap over her shoulder. It kept the bag closer to her body but she was pleased to find that it was stable again. The vixen turned her head towards the smaller rabbit once more and asked, "Do you know what the worst part about all of this is?"

The lapin lady blinked her bright violet eyes once, twice. "Um..."

Seeing the girl wasn't going to give her a good answer, the female red fox continued. "I just got off the bus after taking a long flight from France and I was just trying to share some pie with a cute child that looked like she was hungry." The Latina vulpine shook her head and made her way over to her luggage, making certain that everything was in order.

"Please forgive them!" Judy's mother came running up from behind the booth and got on her knees before the vixen, grasping into the hem of the taller woman's shirt to try and stop the policewoman in her tracks. "I'm truly sorry for what my family did! You need to understand, we've had some real bad experiences with foxes before. You can't blame them for being nervous around someone like you!"

While she was surprised by the motherly rabbit's actions, it was her words that hit home... and not in a good way. "...Someone like... me..." Carmelita repeated slowly. Letting off a depressed sight, the woman shook her head, feeling nothing but depression set in. "Listen, I'm not here on official business. I'm willing to overlook what happened... this time." Seeing all the rabbits relax, she started to walk past them. Without turning back, she told the Hopps family, "Piece of advice: in the future, don't just assume things. It just makes an ass out of you and me."

Setting down a large squash he'd been looking at back on the stand, a donkey turned his head to look towards the vulpine woman. "Friggin' Conservative views and their verbal insensitivity. This is why I'm a Liberal..." he grumbled irritably as he walked away, stomping his hooves angrily as he went.

The Latina vixen chose to ignore the huffy equidae and continuing to walk past the booths and in the direction she hoped would lead her to the train station. After all the woman went through, she wanted nothing more than to just get settled into the promised condo awaiting her so she could crash down in bed and catch some sleep. Even with the pain that was throbbing through the side of her face, it was the mental exhaustion that was truly wearing her down.

However, as she got a distance, a voice soon spoke up, the familiar tone of the jaguar she had ridden the shuttle bus with. "Oi! Señorita Fox!" He called out as he came up beside the vulpine on her right. "Gracia divina! Are you okay?" He queried as he began to slow down in his pace to stay in step with her. "Gideon and I watched what happened with the Hopps family. That was... I mean, YIKES! You took one hell of a hit! How're you even standing!?"

"Simple..." she growled out. "Thanks to my job, I've taken a lot worse hits than that."

That answer–and the woman's growl–made the feline chauffer cringe in response. "La maldición..." he murmured as he shook his head in disbelief. "I must admit, when we first meet, I had no idea you were a policewoman. But you is part of Interpol too? You must see some crazy shit, chica..."

Despite the pain she felt throbbing through her face, Carmelita couldn't help but grin at him. "Want to hear about the time I got turned into a giant monster?"

The panther blinked his bright green eyes in confusion once, twice, thrice. "...Que?"

The vixen chuckled at the male jaguar's expression before she shook her head good-naturedly. "It's true, Renato. I believe there are still some photos circling the internet if you search. Just look up, 'Mask of Dark Earth' and 'Giant Fox'... apparently I could be seen for miles and there was a lot of amateur footage taken."

Mr. Manchas just stared at the woman with obvious surprise. "...You're kidding me. Right?"

Despite the pain she felt jolt through her face, the woman laughed at the perplexed expression on the ebony-furred feline's face. "Don't believe me, do you? Well, just check the internet and find out for yourself. Some people swear it's hoaxed and in all honesty? That's what I prefer. Believe me though, it was all _too_ real."

Renato just stared at her. She didn't seem like the sort to make things up but that statement was just so... out there! "I... I'll take your word for it," he finally replied. Deciding to get off the topic, he was quick to inquire, "You sure you're going to be okay? You may have gotten a concussion from how hard that little bunny hit you." He had seen people with some serious head trauma before... usually when the fancy parties he was driving people back and forth from got out of hand. It didn't happen _too_ often but he knew what to look for.

He still didn't know how one of those, 'sexy parties' ended up with five people suffering a synchronized set of concussions and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.

Considering that for a moment, Carmelita nodded her head, causing her locks of navy blue hair to bounce with the motion. She didn't feel that bad, but it was a possibility. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be careful."

"Indeed," Mr. Manchas heartily agreed. "Anyway, if you want to get out of this place, you need to head there!" He raised his arm out and pointed in a direction. "There's the Bunnyburrow train station! We can catch the Zootopia Express there!"

The vixen turned her head towards where the ebony-furred jaguar was pointing... and gawked at what lay there. The train station looked more like some sort of mockery of a barn mixed with an Easter basket than a boarding platform. Bright yellow walls and deep cranberry roof tiles were the primary components. However, what stood out was the liberal amount of white wood molding that not only gave the immense structures an oval shape akin to that of an egg but was also designed with bunny faces and ear extensions as well to really drive home the 'rabbit' theme. "...They really take the whole, 'Bunny' pun to the extreme, don't they?"

The panther let off a hearty laugh before managing to nod his head in response. "Sí! But that does have a charm to it as well. Don't you think?"

She managed to give the feline a small smirk in return. "Personally, I think I've had enough of rabbits to last me a long while if not a lifetime," the vulpine woman said as she made her way towards the train station. Being careful not to cause her satchel to come apart, the canid woman hustled to catch the monorail in time while the suitcase she held in her other hand bounced as it rolled behind her on its wheels.

Renato chuckled as he quickly followed after her. "Really? Awww... you're going to make Gideon sad if you don't show up this weekend," he told her teasingly.

"He'll live. I just want to give those crazy rabbits some time to hopefully forget about me," the policewoman said in all seriousness. "Last thing I need is to have them hanging on me in apology every time I come over."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Zootopia Central Station, for all intents and purposes was a living embodiment of the phrase, 'make a good first impression' as the Zootopia Express was how the vast majority of visitors entered the city. The vast monorail station was a grand work of functional art designed to both impress the masses as well as address the transit needs of busy mammals on the go. Numerous European and African architectural sensibilities came together within the monumental space to create meticulously crafted and intricately detailed terminal to induce awe and wonder. The station served a quartet of monorail tracks ran through the building which included, the Bunnyburrow Line that ran to outside the City-State and back, as well as the important Inner Loop, the Zootopia Loop, and the Animalia Line tracks to make it easier for mammals to get around the city. The monorails themselves were surrounded by a quintet of platforms on either side of each set of track pathways for the increased efficiency of passenger loading and unloading while offering seating arrangements for those who had to wait or merely needed to take a load off their feet for a moment.

As had happened many times before and would again for some time to come, the Bunnyburrow line made its way towards the station along its track; a train consisting almost entirely of passenger carrying coaches, all of which were powered on a multiple unit system for uniform speed. The monorail had given quite a show that was both for entertainment and purpose. To its riders it was an amazing tour of the City-Sate, speeding non-stop throughout the primary districts. But in doing so, the train was sizzled in the heat of Sahara Square before being frozen in Tundratown to kill any outside bacteria before it would get cleaned off in a downpour in the Rainforest District, before finally coming to Savanna Central to dry off and be presentable for the passengers it was to pick up at the station.

One by one, the numerous linked segments of service-cars–tri-toned gold with silver-colored roof and base–capped off with operator control carts at either end were slowing down as they entered the Zootopia Central Station; the hydraulics decreasing the train's speed as to not cause any distress to either its riders or the people waiting to board in the station. In mere moments, it finally came to a complete stop and three sets of doors situated on each passenger car opened; a main door for the large mammals that made up the majority of the population, a smaller door that went as high as the lower silver portion of the train for the mid-sized animals, and finally an even smaller bottom door that opened up onto the bottom trim on the car, allowing the tiniest of rodent species to get off safely.

A certain vulpine decided to step off the train through the largest door alongside the taller panther she had boarded with, her satchel held close to her body with her right arm as her left hand pulled her suitcase along on its wheels. "Uno momento, Señorita Fox... this way!" The jaguar began as he stepped off the train's ramp and onto the marble-tiled platform along with other animals who were milling about the train station loading platforms. "Now that we're here, I want to know one thing..." he queried as he motioned her to stick close and follow him to the central area. Coming up to one of the many floral displays, particularly palms trees, he moved to sit down on the seating that was part one display's barrier, getting them out of throngs of mammals that made up the hustle and bustle of Zootopia Central Station. When the red fox sat beside him, he finally asked, "What do you think of the little show they put on for folks on the way here? The train ride, I mean."

The canid woman with navy blue tresses mulled over the question as she looked about the station and the animals moving about around the place. Finally shrugging her shoulders, the Hispanic vixen told her impromptu guide, "It's... different." At the curious look the panther gave her with his upturned eyebrow, the female red fox sighed. "If you really want to know, I can't help but feel as though they're trying too hard to pass themselves off as a theme park with that little tour of the city before letting you off. They could have shaved at least eight minutes off the ride if they made it a straight shot to the central station."

Blinking his green eyes in surprise at that summation, Mr. Manchas couldn't help but let off a little laugh in response to her brutal honesty. "Ah, Señorita... you always so serious?" Seeing her nod his head, the Venezuelan feline scoffed. "Impossible. Someone as pretty as you can't possibly be angry all the time... you're likely just cranky from el loco bunnies."

Rolling her eyes at Renato's attempt to flirt with her, Carmelita let off a rather tired sigh. "No kidding," she whispered under her breath before shaking her head. Her brown eyes looked up into the ebony-pelted jaguar's emerald orbs. "So what now, Señor Manchas?"

"Now?" The feline considered that. He brought his right hand to his evergreen driver's cap, tilting it up a little, before his hand moved to the side of head, idly scratching the side of his scalp. "Well, for me, I need to catch another one of the monorails; the Zootopia Loop will let me off in Tundratown. I'd prefer to go home first but... you know how work is, right?"

Snorting, the female red fox was quick to reply, "All too well." Watching the jaguar push himself off from the seat to stand up once more, the woman chimed out, "Wait! Mr. Manchas! Before I go, can I ask you a question?"

Offering the woman a smile, the friendly feline replied, "But of course! What can I do for you, Señorita Fox?"

"How well do you know Zootopia?" She asked honestly. "And I don't mean the political or species situations, I mean the streets. You said you were a limo driver and..." she blushed. "Not going to lie. I have no clue where the hell I'm going outside of an address." She would have thought there might be someone here with a sign or something but with everyone that had filled the station, it would have made finding such–if anyone at all were tasked to do so for her–nearly impossible.

That made the panther smile. "An address, Señorita?" He chuckled to himself. "Well, you're in luck. I know this city like the back of my palm; been driving it for better part of six years. So tell me, Carmelita... where do you need to go?"

"I need to get to 6946 Herd Street," the female vulpine replied. "My boss told me that ZPD set up a modest condo for me at a placed called the, 'Flamingle Flats'."

Renato's eyes widened in recognition. "Ah, I know that place. Pretty swinging place to be too from what I understand. It's a pretty new and swanky place in Northern part of Savanna Central, bordering on Downtown," he explained in all seriousness. He brought his hands together, tapping his index fingers against each other as he thought about it. "Okay. Señorita Fox, when you head out, you're going to want to head East until you hit the Viridian River, then you take a left. You want to follow along it. Now heads up, it's gonna zigzag a little but that's okay, just follow it in a Northern direction until it intersects with Aardvark Avenue. From there, you just head East again until you cross the intersection with Migration Drive and it becomes Herd Street. You can't miss the place; is flashiest building on the block!"

The woman smiled gratefully at the panther. "Gracias, Señor Manchas. Muchos gracias," she praised in her native tongue, making her fellow Latino blush a bit at the praise to the point where it managed to show up through the ebony fur on his face. "I still got your gusiness card and I'll do my best to keep in touch. I have a feeling it would be nice to have a friend out here."

The panther was grinning from ear-to-ear. "And it will be a pleasure to be friends with a lady as beautiful as yourself." He then brought his right hand up to the side of his head and gave her a two fingered salute. "As for me, I need to head out. But if you need anything or just feel like talking, don't be afraid to call!" And with that, he turned about and headed off into the throngs of would-be-passengers and other animals shuffling about the station, disappearing into the crowd as he made his way towards his desired monorail line.

Watching as the man left, Carmelita did a mental check of the instructions he had given her. Feeling confident, the woman got up and took a moment to make sure her satchel was still stable. She then stepped out and into the oppressively cavernous main concourse of the train station, before being swept up within the waves of bustling mammals. It was a tad difficult to get a good look at everything thanks to the vast array of taller species, but she could make out that the interior had various fast food outlets among a number of familiar chain stores including a Snarlbucks, a Cinnabone, a Mice-Aid Pharmacy, and even a Carrot store with an advertisement for pre-ordering the upcoming Zoogle glasses.

It seemed that despite being a sovereign nation, external commerce was alive and well in Zootopia... and she hadn't even left the train station! _Although I can't stand around gawking. I need to get to Flamingle Flats!_ So with that thought in mind, the vixen pulled her luggage behind her as she walked about, being careful not to get pushed around by the much larger mammals that were also doing their best to either make it to a monorail, reach a business, or simply exit the place just as she was trying to do.

Walking towards what she hoped was the exit, a series of colorful plastic tubes caught the woman's eye. Taking a good look at them, the female red fox couldn't help but smile as she realized what they were. For a place that was supposed to have been taken over by the mindset of, 'survival of the fittest' she had to admit it was rather progressive on the city's part to set up pneumatic tube transport for the **much** smaller animals to make it easier for them to get around a busy transportation plaza like this one. Such made it incredibly safer for them to get around too... even if all the unnecessary vertical loops and hot neon colors could have been considered demeaning for the poor rodent population but perhaps that helped them navigate their way around the area as well. Different colors for different entry and exit points.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of trying to exit the massive place, the vixen was successful in stepping out of the Zootopia Central Station. In doing so, Carmelita was surprised to find herself smack-dab in the middle of a major commercial intersection, the likes of which could have rivaled New York's Times Square! There were just so many illuminated billboards and jumbotron screens that plastered the sides of buildings and towered over all the mammals. Lots of cars, a trolley system, and pedestrian traffic filled the city streets while the sidewalks were crowded with food carts, street performances, and all sorts of things to entice animals to spend their hard-earned cash on. Besides the towering advertisements, this section of the city had everything. In the center of it all was natural oasis turned water fountain, a monument to the past and a bright future which numerous major amenities were built around: city hall, the police station, a major library, a grand hotel and restaurant, and the grandiose train station she exited from just to name a few.

However, what caught Carmelita's attention the most was not the immense buildings or important municipal offices but that the city was noticeably filled with mammals from all walks of life. Whether it was the smallest gerbil, the tallest giraffe, the widest elephant, the skinniest ferret, and everything in between! Every sort of mammal was almost immediately represented, be they businessmen, junior ranger scout troops, exercise enthusiasts, school children, retail employees, or whatever life could possibly hold! Any species of mammal the female red fox could think of was immediately within her gaze with the mere turn of her head!

It was almost hilarious how being in a crowded city with all kinds of animals did more to impress the vulpine policewoman than all the glitz and glamour of the monorail ride into Zootopia had done. Seeing a truly balanced modern ecosystem was almost enough to give her hope that perhaps this place had moved further beyond the specism than Bentley's intelligence gathering had let on. "And I could be a part of making it even better," she whispered, feeling pride and even a bit of excitement once again, something having to deal with all those bunny hicks back in the Burrows had stripped from her.

Carmelita was then surprised as–almost as if on cue–the imagery on one of the Jumbotron screens changed, switching from a Cub Soda advertisement to showing a larger than life recording of the Colombian transplant, the famed superstar musician Gazelle. The picturesque representation of the tall and slender gazelle smiled as she looked towards the camera, her wavy blonde hair bouncing with the motion as she fluttered those long and feminine eyelashes, highlighting the gleam of her light brown eyes. Finally, amidst a speaker system, the recording of the famous singer greeted, "Welcome to Zootopia!"

"Welcome indeed, Miss Loco for her Tigré..." the female red fox murmured back before letting off a small giggle, the feminine sound coming out rather pretty and melodious. So with that thought in mind, the Hispanic vixen repositioned the knotted strap of her satchel on her shoulder and gripped her suitcase tighter before making her way in an Eastward direction like Mr. Manchas had told her to. Walking out into Savanna Central, the woman was surprised at how she felt at ease. It was loud, busy, crowded, lots of traffic... yet it was a city that was practically screaming with energy and culture thanks to the diversity in both its population and architecture. It was enough to reenergize the woman, enough to where even the pain the side of her face didn't seem as prominent anymore.

"Just need to keep moving. Don't want to get caught under any of these larger mammals," the vulpine woman muttered to herself. She couldn't help but wonder for a moment if she should just call a cab, before shrugging it off. It was a nice day and walking had a nice benefit of committing places to one's spatial memory. Plus it would help her get a chance to see how the average person lived around Zootopia.

Although she REALLY hoped there was no, 'Bubba-Gump' kind of mammals around here. The last thing she wanted to see was a shirtless, greasy, obese animal in a lawn chair in front of an RV trailer trying to hit on her again.

Not that she expected to see such in a city... but considering how much open space Zootopia seemed to allow some of these districts, she couldn't be too certain.

So with that thought in mind, the Latina vulpine looked up at the sky, taking in the view and allowing the sunlight to shin down on her face, taking strength and comfort from it. Then without further ado, the canid cop continued heading in an Eastern direction, doing her best to follow crosswalks as she made her way across street intersections and stuck to the sidewalks. It really could have been New York if the Big Apple had been given brighter splashes of color and had a few more curvier buildings. The city on the East Coast was known for bright neon lights but Zootopia had all kinds of unique and naturally brightly-colored architecture!

Even as she took in the sights and sounds of the city, the woman's intuition was on high; the Interpol officer was very attentive of where she walked, taking in the name of street signs as she passed them until finally, Carmelita came up to bridge passing over the Viridian River. Mr. Manchas told her to head North along until she hit Aardvark Avenue and the sign by this section of the water crossing was certainly NOT where he told her to go. So turning to her left, the female red fox started walking once more as she began heading towards the direction of Downtown.

As she got further North from Savanna Central, the female red fox couldn't help but notice that the pretty colors started to die down. Even if the architecture maintained rather ethnic designs, they were more in tune with their surroundings. To the vulpine, this part of the city started to feel more, 'real' for lack of better terms. "Huh... I guess they keep the central area bright and happy for tourists and PR crap." While a depressing thought, it did make far too much sense.

Despite the problems she had getting here and the actual enjoyment she got out of the arrival area Carmelita had to admit, this _was_ nice to see too. She always had a fondness for large buildings and the designs were pretty neat as well. Like one of the conical spiral designs that appeared where one would expect an apartment building...

Blinking her brown eyes once, twice, it took a moment but realization soon his the Latina vulpine like a sack of bricks. "Oh wait... that **is** an apartment building." She laughed softly to herself. There was another structure in the next block that looked like a shoe and one that looked like some sort of hydrant and bone mix. "Interesting architecture..."

"Hey, cat! I wanna go play!"

"Gah! No, I need to do my–DA~AANG IT!"

Pausing in her tracks, the Latian vixen blinked her chocolate eyes in shock as she watched a dog go sailing past her. "...Did I just see a cat and dog conjoined at the waist run off just now?" Shaking her head to clear it, the woman blinked her eyes as the building shaped like a fire hydrant took on a form more akin to a fire-red brick building... and the cat-dog thing now appeared as two children running alongside each other hand-in-hand. "...Maybe Manchas was right and that hit to the head was a bit worse than I thought..." the policewoman murmured as she shook her head once more for good measure and continued to make her way North, looking to her right occasionally at the river where she would catch sight of some sort of boat on it every so often. Each bridge she passed denoted a new street but not the one she was searching for.

When she passed another half dozen city blocks though, that was when things started to change. Carmelita frowned as she noticed the colors were now very... blunt. More dark earth tones were at play, making it seem like more a traditional city than the fantastical thing that made up the central aspect that was all bright and welcoming. It now felt that she was in the real Zootopia...

...A real Zootopia that almost killed her.

"Jesús Cristo!" The Latina beauty cried out as she had to jump back; a Ewe-Haul truck was, as its brand name would suggest, hauling ass over the bridge even as she had the crosswalk lights in her favor, the woman stumbling back a number of steps to avoid being turned into street pizza. It was only thanks to her grip on her luggage that she kept from falling down in the street.

" _Watch where you're going, you dumb fox!_ " She heard the driver shout towards her direction as he continued to take off down the road at a speedy clip. True, she never got a good look at the driver but the voice was definitely masculine.

After a moment, the visibly shaken woman was about to shrug off the paranoia such an event instilled. Truck drivers were notorious for having terribly short tempers; mostly due to the fact that they had to get stuff done quickly. The whole, 'dumb fox' quip probably had no meaning at all. "Likely no different than being called a, 'dumb broad' or something..." Carmelita surmised as she began to walk across the street once more while she still had the crosswalk light in her favor. Yet now, as she did the vulpine's ears were perked up... and boy, she wasn't liking what she could hear in hushed tones.

" _Mommy! Look! A tiny chomper!_ "

" _Shhh! Don't say that out loud or she might bite you, baby_."

" _EEEK!_ "

Biting her lower lip to keep from snapping out, the canid woman's eye twitched in irritation. Really? What the heck was that for!?

" _I thought friggin' foxes didn't skulk around during the day_." The vixen heard another mammal say. She didn't bother looking for the person, because she just wanted to get past them already. " _Guess they're starting to get bold, huh?_ " The female red fox heard another judgmental animal say in response to the previous person.

 _I_ _ **SO**_ _should have called for that cab. All this specist talk is getting pretty damn annoying_ , Carm thought to herself. Even if they were very... pointed remarks, she could ignore them.

After all, she had been called **far worse** by the crooks she put behind bars.

So with that thought in mind, the policewoman continued on her way. The female red fox made it another block before she caught sight of a familiar yellow coloration not too far ahead in her field of vision. Blinking her eyes to make sure, the vulpine woman realized that, yes, she did indeed see a taxi cab! The Hispanic vulpine smiled as she started to pick up the pace, weaving about people on the street to reach the public transport, the sound of the wheels on her luggage becoming quite audible as they sped up behind her. Making her way to the passenger's side of the cab, the lovely Latina smiled as she saw a male caribou inside the front seat, the driver checking his meter. "Pardon me! Can I please get a ride to Herd Street?"

The herbivore smiled at the sound of such a lovely female voice. "Sure thing, lady! I'll—" the words died on his lips as he looked up to see the smiling visage of a fox outside his vehicle. His right hand immediately shot down and gripped the gear shaft, the driver taking his vehicle out of park and transitioning it to the drive gear before rocketing off into the traffic lane.

Standing on the edge of the side walk, the vulpine policewoman just stared, her jaw hanging low. And yet as she stood there, she could hear more and more of the spiteful, hateful words from the passersby. Hushed tones as to not immediately draw attention but loud and angry enough to get their point across: Carmelita wasn't welcome unless she lived up to the vixen stereotype.

" _Can't believe someone like that would be here_."

" _Look at her chest! Think they're real?_ "

" _Nah, they gotta be fake. Though I wonder how much she charges per hour_."

" _Quite a lot of she can afford to stay at Herd Street_."

" _Yeah, probably couldn't afford her_."

" _Even if you could, you wouldn't want any of_ _ **that**_ _... would you?_ "

Her fingers clenching her hands into tight fists, Carmelita twitched angrily at the voices whispering around her, seeing her as nothing more than a whore. "I **really** should have gotten a ride earlier by the train station." She grumbled in impotent fury. Oh she was going to have FUN when she came back here later in uniform...

The amount of people panicing at a fox police officer would make for a good laugh later on.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and hopefully ignore the comments as she walked, the woman continued to follow the river. As she got closer to the Downtown District, the amount of mammals mouthing off did minimalize. However, those whose words did reach the woman's hearing, it became obvious that they weren't all that friendly towards her species as triangular-tipped ears stood tall above her navy blue tresses and caught wind of some of the most disgraceful slurs to her species that likely hadn't been in any common language outside of Zootopia for the past fifty years!

" _Savage beast_."

" _Pelt_."

And the dreaded, most specist of phrases for foxes: the Y-word.

" _Yiffer_."

Carmelita had to grit her teeth and actively suppress her rage to avoid jumping the elderly stag. She was certain she'd break the old fart's hip if she did but good God! The Y-word! The fucker actually said the Y-word! How could anyone honestly say that with a straight face!?

"And just like that, the positive energy I got on arrival is gone..." she murmured bitterly as she continued to make her way in a Northern direction until finally... _finally_... she made it to Aardvark Ave. Turning about, the woman headed over the bridge and continued on her way. Not too far up ahead, she caught sight of the intersection with a street sign labeled as, 'Migration Drive'... which meant that colorful block beyond it had to be the start of Herd Street!

It took a couple of waits at intersections, but after nearly a solid hour of travel on foot, the woman had reached her destination! Her head bobbing as she gazed about and took in the area, it was obvious to the vixen that Herd Street was a recently gentrified section of the city; the areas that were leading up to this city block were too naturally aged to have been recent construction. The architecture here was more what she would expect of a bustling city but the color palette was closer to that she saw in Central Savanna. "Particularly with all the businesses," she murmured in interest. She looked about and could see amenities that would make living here enjoyable. Small eateries, a gas station, a pharmacy, all sorts of street vendors crowding the sidewalks... shoot, this place even had not one but **TWO** of the largest _banks_ she ever saw! And the Latina policewoman had worked **a lot** of bank robbery cases in her career!

"Oh, Sly would have _loved_ this," she said wistfully, as a small, sad smile graced her lovely muzzle. Shaking her head to banish any thoughts of her missing partner and love, the vixen continued to transverse past the front of the Lemming Brothers Bank across the street and the line of... well, **lemmings**... that crowded the sidewalk in a most anxious fashion. Her smile became a bit more natural and upbeat as she caught sight of the reason for the congregation of mammals: a male red fox in green Hawaiian shirt was running a small ice-cream stand. It was a sight that tempted her to have a little bit of hope for this city if a fellow vulpine could somehow make an honest living with no hassle here.

Maybe it was because this was obviously a recently refurbished part of the city that some of the equality Zootopia's government tried to publicly promote managed to actually permeate the area?

"Well, guess there's only one thing to do then..." the woman whispered before she began walking down the street towards her destination where hopefully no more slurs would be directed at her. "I'm going to need a **strong** drink to forget this nonsense."

Thankfully the rest of the trip through the city block was mostly quiet, save for a couple of mammals shouting cat-calls at her while making no effort to hide the fact they were ogling her–admittedly–curvaceous backside.

Which was, in all honestly, _quite_ preferable to what she had been getting.

Finally, in following the building numbers, she came across it. "There it is! Building 6946!" She cried out in relief... only for her relief to turn to horror as she looked up at the condo complex and actually took in the sight of it. The place was decked out in a solid bright neon-pink coloration which had to have had glitter in the paint from how it sparkled in the sunlight; the sign above the entrance reading, 'Flamingle Flats' destroyed all hope that just maybe this actually might not be where she was supposed to stay.

"...Oh crap. It's that chintzy, _theme-park_ kind of gentrification, isn't it?" She murmured in annoyance before shaking her head in defeat. Still, she would gladly take this kind of progressiveness over the close-minded specism that seemed to have permeated about... if she were being generous and rounded down... eighty-percent of the city.

Rolling her shoulders, the woman straightened up. There was no need to whine about it. It had been a rough day and she just wanted to end it already. "Doesn't matter in the long run anyway... I just need to get settled into what will be my home for the next six months or so and I can write this day off," the vixen murmured as she walked up the three steps that lead to the entrance. It was a really expensive mahogany door that looked hand-carved to include the decorations of female flamingos in a more... 'natural' state.

Her eye twitching as she realized her hand had to press atop the structure that was a female flamingo's tit to open the door, the Latina cop couldn't help but growl, "If this is some sort of sex club, I am going to kill Barkley when I get back to Paris." Deciding not to wait any further, the woman pushed against the intricately carved barrier, forcing it open. Needless to say, the vixen was pleasantly surprised to see that it lead directly into the professional-looking foyer; a large, vast room which someone had obviously gone to great lengths to decorate. With all the expensive furniture and finery, it was to give the impression if not convey a message of, 'high society'.

Seeing no one around in the immediate vicinity, the woman looked towards the back and caught sight of what appeared to be a front desk at the rear of the reception area. Stepping inside the building, the female red fox took a moment to close the door behind her before she made her way past the lounge area that was filled with comfortable furniture–such as couches and chairs–as well as a large television set playing some fashion program and coffee table topped with magazines and newspapers. Coming to a stop at the front she saw a small bell on the countertop and pat her hand down atop it a couple of times, eliciting a surprisingly melodious ring from it.

" _Coming!_ " A rather effeminate male voice called out before a door behind the desk opened and out through it entered a lithe ram with finely trimmed coal black wool and perfectly manicured horns. He was dressed in a sharp, impeccably clean white suit, while adorned in flashy accessories such as pure jet-black sunglasses, a bright gold watch, and a neon-pink handkerchief in the jacket's breast pocket. However, the sheep's mirth lessened, the herbivore coming to a pause at the sight of the woman. "Uh... hello? Can I... help you?" He asked, sounding rather confused, as if her very presence was unbelievable.

The female red fox didn't make a fuss about it though. She just wanted to get to her room and crash on the bed. "Yes." She gave him a slightly tired smile. "I'm Carmelita Fox, newcomer to the Zootopia Police Department. I was informed by my contact that I would be staying here for the next few months."

The male bovidae blinked his eyes behind the dark lenses of his glasses a few times as he mentally processed that. "Ah." The sheep tilted his head as he looked at her, still feeling a bit of confusion. "I've not heard anything but let me check the books and make calls if need-be," he said in all seriousness. It wouldn't do to turn away a potential tenant... even if she was a fox.

Nodding her head as the ram began to boot up his computer and pull his cell phone out of his pants pocket, Carmelita headed over to the couch and set herself down on the soft material. As she relaxed and the tension of her muscles eased up, the woman realized just how tired she was. "Okay, game-plan..." she murmured. "Hot shower and bed." This day may have been shot but tomorrow was a new day and a chance to start over. It was a chance to get to know this city before she had to get signed in with the ZPD. Even if she didn't do much to check the city out, at the very least, she needed to stop by the police station and pick up her uniform and gear so she could be ready for her first day on the force when the time came... which was all too soon.

Closing her eyes, the woman exhaled softly, just letting the aches and pains of the day fade away, ignoring the conversation the landlord was having on the phone as she just reveled in the sensations that surrounded her. She had to be honest: this really was nice furniture and the air conditioning kept the place at a comfortable temperature too. If the lobby alone was like this, the female fox couldn't wait to see the condo the police set up for her.

However, her pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a shout of, "Excuse me! Miss? Could you come over here for a moment?"

Opening her eyes, the woman turned her head towards the ram that was standing behind the desk. "Yes? What is it?" She queried.

"While I didn't find a, 'Fox' in the computers, there **is** indeed a reservation and six month lease paid in advance for a Carmelita Montoya in the system," he said in all seriousness. As the woman smiled, the sheep's muzzle pulled back into a frown. "However, I think she would be rather pissed if I let some damn pelt hustle her way into her home."

Needless to say, **that** statement caught the vulpine woman by surprise. "Que!?" She cried out in shock at the accusation. Sitting up on the couch, she firmly told him. "But I am her! I am me! Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox!"

The ram snorted. "Please! I'm used to the scams by you damned yiffers by now," he said, ignoring the expression of shock and horror as he called her such to her face. "Obviously you just want in so you can ransack the place and tear all he copper wiring out of the walls." His hands came down on the desk, gently rapping his cloven digits along the surface. "However, I am a nice enough guy. Since you didn't get any further than the lobby, how about you just turn around and leave and in return, I won't call the cops again." Honestly, the gall of this woman! Trying to pass herself off as a Chihuahua!

"Go ahead! Call them!" The vixen huffed as she practically rocketed herself off the couch. "I'm certain that we can clear this up very quickly." Carmelita walked up and slammed her hands on the desk. Leaning forward, the woman glared into the black lenses of the sheep's glasses. "Or perhaps you want me to call the mayor and have him come down personally?"

The ram raised an eyebrow high enough that it actually perked above the rim of his oversized sunglasses... before he burst out laughing. "Oh... oh man! I have to hand it to you shifty foxes! When you bluff, you bluff _good_!" He chuckled a bit more, shaking his head as the woman standing before him began fuming with impotent rage. "But don't worry, I know how to bluff too!" He smiled and hit the bell on his desk five times in rapid succession...

...And in response, the unmarked door to the right of the lobby opened. Out of it stepped on massive rhinoceros, dressed in a fine black suit and sunglasses as well; the button on his lapel listing him as, 'security'. The luxurious silks were taut atop muscles that held enough strength to bend steel, making it obvious that despite the refinery he wore, this thick-necked brute was anything but refined!

"Oh Franci~ _iiiiiis_ ," the ebony-fleeced landlord chimed out in sing-song voice. "Would you be a dear and kindly toss this trespassing chomper to the curb? Thank you!"

Carmelita twitched at hearing that before she turned to glare at that herbivore. "I'll see to it that you never work in this town again when this is sorted out." She meant that too. It was one thing to not believe her because of some mistaken identity... but to have likely done so for specist reasoning AND to have so casually called her by all those specist slurs as well!? That black-wool sheep was **despicable**!

"Ma'am..." Francis spoke–surprising the Latina woman as his voice wasn't as deep as his body suggested it would be–as he put his hand on her shoulder. "We can do this the easy or hard way. Either way is fine with me, although I'd rather **not** have to get rough with you if I can help it."

The ram laughed, making the ebony wool atop his head bob with the motions. "Oh there's no need to be so polite with her, Francis! She was threatening me just now, even if only with meaningless words." He brought up his left hand and waved them off. "Just get this bitch out of here and give those ratty bags of her the rough treatment she _should_ receive get the point across."

Nodding his head, the large rhino replied, "Whatever. You're the boss, Mr. Fleeceman," he replied as he turned the woman around in the grasp of his right hand and started marching her towards the door, ignoring her angry shouts and cries of indignation. He reached out his with left hand to pull the door open before giving her a bit of a push, causing her to stumble down the stairs. As she turned about to come back in, he firmly slammed the door shut and latched it before returning to the lounge to get her luggage. Both pieces held firmly underneath his left arm, the large herbivore made his way back to the entrance and slid the metal bar out of its latch before opening the door again.

"Hey asshole, give me back my—" Carmelita's eyes went wide as she saw he had both her bags in his grasp and was raising them up high. "Hey! Wait a second now!" She shouted at the large enforcer, trying to get his attention. "Don't you even dare think to—"

The muscular prey animal threw the two pieces of luggage over the vixen's head, causing them to land firmly on the sidewalk; the already broken satchel practically fell apart as it roughly crashed into the curb while the luggage bounced and went right into traffic thanks to its stability and wheels... before being hit by a speeding car, sending the now noticeably dented suitcase spinning wildly about.

Carmelita just gawked at all the damage as the rhinoceros security officer politely replied, "Have a nice day." He then shut the door again, a deadbolt audibly clicking this time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Welcome to Zootopia, Carmelita... where it appears the phrase, 'try everything' is rather different between predators and prey.

Yes, I did make a Cat-Dog reference... because one of my Beta-Readers was adamant about trying to do something light-hearted, considering what I've been putting poor Inspector Fox through. Of course in her case, it may have been a concussion-induced hallucination but you never truly know...

For those who might be curious, the answer is yes. The Cherry mentioned by Finnick near the beginning of this chapter is both a lost aspect of the Zootopia movie and an aspect borrowed from the Zistopia tumblr–with permission! The trio of Arctic vixens known as, "Kozlov's Angels" will make proper appearances in this story eventually...

...As might quite possibly the most badass little lapin lady of them all.

Until next time!


	5. Sugar

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 5: Sugar

An orange van adorned with a prominent tribal paint job came down Herd Street at a considerable pace before taking a sharp right and pulling off into a wide alleyway settled between two condo complexes; knocking over some trash cans as it did and annoying the raccoon tenant using one of them. It came to a final stop far enough into the passageway so that only the rear of the vehicle was slightly exposed to the street. As the engine shut off and the automobile settled, both of the doors on the back of the Ford Lobos van swung into the open air. It took but a mere moment for the van's slightly rusted metal plate to quickly unfold and slide out, the base of the ramp scrapping along the concrete of the sidewalk hard enough that it caused sparks to fly off from the rough contact along with a nasty screech.

Slowly from the darkness of the van's interior stepped the vulpine con-mammal Nicholas Piberius Wilde... or, 'Slick Nick' as he was known to his semi-friends, acquaintances, and shady business associates. "Come on, little buddy! Time's a wastin'!" He shouted as he turned his head to his right. Catching sight of the street clock adorned in a golden and green color scheme set out front of the Lemming Brothers Bank, a frown pulled over his muzzle. "I mean it! It's almost closing time! We don't want to miss the pre-dinner rush!" He called to his hustling compatriot as the vulpine tugged on the white handle of a forty quart baby-blue plastic rolling cooler, carefully leading the container filled with ice fresh from Tundratown and recently chilled frozen treats down the steel plate and onto the sidewalk.

The driver's side door opened and a small fennec dropped out. "Damn it, Wilde!" The shorter vulpine snapped in his surprisingly deep, baritone voice as he reached with his left hand to push the door closed. Making his way around the vehicle, he glared angrily up at the taller male who was taking a moment to straighten out the painted wood sign sticking out of one side of the wheeled cooler that advertised their frozen goods. "How many times do I have to tell you before I gotta resort to punching your teeth out? **Don't call me** _ **little!**_ "

Shrugging his shoulders, the lithe vulpine male ignored the threat to his dental work and calmly replied, "Right, right. You got it _**big**_ guy," he said, hoping to placate the snarling, irritable desert fox. "But I'm not joking when I say it's almost show time! So get into those recycling bins and be ready to roll!" He chirruped as he motioned over to his left where a trio of different sized public recycling receptacles was stationed at–the metal structures various sizes for the ease of the numerous mammal heights that existed. "Cheezits Construction wants their next lumber delivery ready by first thing tomorrow morning if not sooner! We don't want to lose the hundred and sixty bucks that would rake in from that job, do we Finnick?"

Snorting, the smaller fox looked up at his taller business partner, the man slightly mollified by the fact Nick at least used his preferred nickname. "We wouldn't even be this late if you hadn't made us stop at Honey's to drop off your crap," the short-tempered animal complained even as he made his way over to the public disposal bins. Taking a key ring out of his pocket, he flipped through them before coming upon one with a small black tab that extended out into circular notch for a tubular pin tumbler lock. The small vulpine pressed it into the side of the largest of the three recycling units and turned it, causing the interior latch of the unit to slide free. "At least we're set for pawpsicle syrup for the next couple of months. It's even worse when I have to sit in there in a diaper," he complained as he reached out to pull open the door. When it out of the way enough, the petite mammal stepped inside and closed the metal barrier behind him with an audible clang.

Rolling his eyes at the temperament of his partner, the red fox took a moment to slide the ramp back into the vehicle before close the fan door; his triangular ears twitching as they listened for the interior locks latching. Once he was certain the vehicle was secure, Nick grabbed the white handle of the plastic tub on wheels and began hauling it out onto the sidewalk, making his way through the throngs of mammals while occasionally reaching out to hand over one of the cherry pawpsicles to anyone who would flag him down with two dollars held at the ready. 

Pulling free from the many animals that filled up the walkways, the male vulpine pulled the rolling cooler over towards the two banks, setting up shop between them. He looked over to his right towards the post clock once more and smirked at the sight that greeted him. A store that was part of the Yakgurt brand retail chain situated on the opposite side of the Lemming Brothers Bank was already filled with a line that went straight out the door... a perfect situation for him to skim some impatient customers off to frozen yogurt chain's cloven hooves.

But first things first! He had to wait for the bank to close; it was always a wise decision to make sure one's regular customers got their turn. Prompt service and steady quality kept them coming back for **more**. Picking up a frozen dessert by its stick in his left hand, the vulpine held the flavored ice treat aloft. _Any minute now_ , he thought as he anxiously tapped his foot, those emerald eyes drawn to the golden bell atop the clock as the two solid metal ram figurines at either side of it were slowly drawing back to chime the hour.

And then it happened. Both ram hammers had made it as far as they could, butting up into the golden filigree decorations that adorned the frame of the clock post's watch before rushing forward and striking the bell again and again in rapid succession, letting off a series of audible chimes that echoed over the numerous mammals in the area to announce it was five o'clock. And just like that, the turnstile door that was entrance to the bank on the red fox's right began to rotate, a series of lemmings marching out en masse.

Nick waited, having learned from experience that the lineup of exit **never** changed. As always it was Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Leonard, and Mr. Landon Lemming who exited the financial institution first; the owners and proverbial siblings of the Lemming Brothers Bank. Always so serious and glum, they headed off to the right, towards the destination of the private parking garage along with a number of their floor managers; all the little rodents of importance designated by their black and white checker-patterned ties. The vulpine smirked when, as usual, the tenth lemming to come out was Larry; the first of the blue and gold-tie group that marked the rest of the bank's employees as either tellers, financial advisors, or any of the other less glamorous positions within the finance company's pecking order.

And Larry? That boy had a **sweet tooth**!

Taking a deep breath, Nick was quick to cry out, "PAWPSICLES! GET YOUR PAWPSICLES HERE!" The vulpine held the small dessert he had chosen from the group in the cooler up even higher, shaking it slightly to draw attention to it. "ORGANIC PAWPSICLES! BEAT THE SAVANNA CENTRAL HEAT WITH A TASTY PAWPSICLE!" He then continued to belt out at the top of his lungs. "AT ONLY TWO BUCKS A PAWP, IT'S THE CHERRY TREAT THAT CAN'T BE BEAT! COME AND GET 'EM WHILE SUPPLIES LAST!"

Just like that, the little lemming Larry perked right up! The bank-teller's beady black eyes began shimmering with delight as his ears caught the ice-cream hustler's advertising spiel. So whereas all the higher ups were heading off to get in their fancy, expensive cars to drive home or out to a fancy restaurant, the young lemming turned an immediate right towards the pawpsicle stand, his chubby little co-workers following diligently behind him, each one's eyes widening with excitement as they realized where they were heading off to.

 _Lucky little guys. It takes so little to make them so happy_ , the vulpine thought a bit enviously as he began the process of fast-paced sales, handing off the cherry-flavored icy treats to the lemmings in return for a pair of dollars he was quick to pocket. Again and again, like clockwork, frozen desserts and cold hard cash exchanged paws one after the other. Mr. Wilde's grin grew even wider as he saw that a number of the animals at the end of the line for the Yakgurt store picking up and heading over to join the lemmings as his line was proving to be much quicker than what the dumb teenagers working supposed, 'fast food' could manage.

However, even in the midst of serving these lemmings their frozen treats of questionable origin–but still organic, darn it–the sly fox's eyes shifted back and forth, on the lookout for someone else to convince to purchase one of his tasty pawpsicles. The line of lemmini he could usually coerce with but a mere prominent voice calling out over the noise of the city made it incredibly easy to meet his personal daily quota but he was always looking to pad his pockets further. And that meant attracting other potential customers. _Should be easy with the start of the rush hour_ , he thought confidently as emerald eyes darted back and forth.

It was in the midst of browsing for someone he could easily pull in with the lure of cherry goodness–even as he took his two dollars from another of the lemmings and gave them their icy-pawp in return–that he saw **her**. Coming up the sidewalk across the street was a most lovely vixen covered in the most lavish, softest looking pelt of brownish-orange fur that was offset and complimented by the waist-length navy blue hair that reached back to the base of her fluffy tail–a braid tied into it just below the woman's shoulders. Her chocolate eyes were darting left and right as they looked around the place, which only served to draw attention to the beauty mark under her left eye. _Good lord, she's practically on par with a coyote or wolf_ , he thought as he continued to drink in the sight of the female red fox. She was a solid head taller than him–taller than most foxes in general to be honest. Her curvaceous build was incredibly feminine, more so than one usually saw in Zootopia outside of Gazelle... but from what he could make out, the female vulpine was physically fit to a _surprising_ degree as well with toned muscles in all the right places. Her lovely attire was comprised of a loose-fitting white blouse that showed off the top of her cleavage, tight denim jeans that hugged those incredible hips, and the nice brand new pair of shiny-white Nike sneakers really did show off just how lovely she was.

The man nearly fell over as he felt his heart jump in his chest as the saddest, gentlest smile graced her features. It was because of the vixen's beautiful, powerfully familiar expression that Nick would have sworn he'd seen her somewhere before as a sensation of déjà vu cascaded across the back of his thoughts and screaming throughout his mind. His jaw dropping, the male vulpine couldn't help but swallow, trying to work moisture to a suddenly dry throat as he watched her continue to walk away, pulling a large brown suitcase behind her; a wondrous feminine sway to her hips that just screamed how hot-to-trot she was. It was beauty that was both captivating and haunting, with great emphasis on the latter. He'd never seen any female vulpine of any breed with the kind of gorgeous appearance this one had; the clash of both familiarity and the unknown driving him onward to just keep gazing as she went by.

He was finally taken back to reality as he felt a hand firmly tugging on his pant-leg. Blinking his eyes, the canid male turned back to see one of the remaining lemmings getting a bit antsy. "Oh! Oh right! Sorry pal!" He apologized as he turned his attention back to the customer, handing him the pawpsicle before taking his money. Going through the motions with the other customers, the red fox was working on automatic on the chain of supply and demand as he kept peering over his shoulder, wondering where she was going.

Catching sight of the woman coming to a stop and standing before a building painted a solid bright neon-pink made Nick raise an eyebrow. _Flamingle Flats? I wonder what she's doing there_... he thought curiously as he watched her step inside the building. _Maybe she's getting a place there_ , he surmised as he turned his attention back to his customers fully. He smiled as the line of small, rotund finely-dressed rodents tapered off and he finally got to the larger animals. As with the tiny mammals, he was quick to take their money with one hand and replace the emptiness of their paws with a frozen delicacy of all-natural artificial cherry flavoring.

Hey, flavor-enhancing chemicals could originate from organic sources too! 

Finishing up with the last customer lined up, Wilde felt pretty vindicated. A solid forty customers in thirty minutes was a good start. Not many mammals could claim to earning that much in even an hour, leaving the male vulpine with plenty of leeway to make more before the dinner rush was over. So looking around at anyone else he might be able to entice with his icy treats, the red fox took hold of another of the pawpsicles by its stick and held it high. The salesman took a deep breath, intent to chime out the siren's call of sugary goodness...

...Only to have the words die in his throat as he saw the door of Flamingle Flats open across the street and a rhino roughly push the vixen he'd seen early out; the woman stumbling down the trio of steps. Nick's heart seized as he watched, expecting the worse... only to feel relief as the woman was able to keep her balance. He watched on as she turned around just as the door was closed. He raised an eyebrow as he observed the woman rush up the steps, first jimmying with a door-handle that refused to yield before slamming her fists on the door. "Estúpido cabrón! Gilipollas! BASTARDO LADRÓN!" She cursed in Spanish as she continued to slam her clenched hands over the intricate carvings of the door. "GIVE ME BACK MY STUFF!"

 _Wow... definitely a hot-tempered Latina_ , the con-mammal thought as a chuckle sounded from his muzzle as whatever spell her beauty had managed to ensnare him with ceased. Granted, she was still **very** beautiful in his eyes, but the tableau of perfection was broken, allowing him to see the woman for what she really was, what Zootopia would only allow her to be: a sultry vixen. _Not much better than being a sly fox, but at least for the ladies it's a step up_.

Shaking his head good naturedly, the male vulpine took a breath again, prepared to chime out that he had most delicious icy pawps to sell to the hungry masses before the entrance to the gaudy pink building opened again, the rhinoceros practically filling the doorframe. "Hey asshole, give me back my—" the vixen stopped suddenly as the much larger herbivore held both her bags high, arms bending back in preparation to throw. "Hey! Wait a second now!" The Hispanic vulpine tried to argue, her arms rising up in a desperate attempt to grab at her luggage. "Don't you even dare think to—"

And that was when Nick saw as the oversized horned mammal threw both bags over the woman's head of curly navy-blue tresses, the pieces of luggage going up in a high arc before slamming down harshly against the concrete of the sidewalk. The woman's satchel practically exploded upon impact, small bits of paper, electronics and knick-knacks spilling out while the suitcase bounced off and went rolling into traffic thanks to its wheels...

Both vulpines cringed as it was suddenly hit by a speeding car, the blow sending a now visibly broken suitcase spinning wildly about in the street before it came to a stop and landed on its side; both latches breaking open and causing the top to prop open from how stressed the frame was. It was a tableau of silence as both foxes just stared at the thoughtless destruction of the woman's personal property.

Nodding his head, the thick-skinned herbivore calmly bid her adieu with a, "Have a nice day." Before be shut the door once more, the sound of a deadbolt audibly clicking with the motion.

The woman rushed down the stairs, her lips pulled back in a frown as she bitterly cursed, "Mierda, mierda, mierda, mierda..." under her breath in rapid succession. She tried to run into the street, only to yelp as another car rushed by, practically turning the woman into road-kill. Would have too if her reflexes weren't primed. Instead, the vixen was able to jump out of the way in the nick of time. "Culo maldito!" She shouted at the driver as they drove off, taking a moment to quickly shake an angry fist at his direction before turning about grabbing the mess that had been her suitcase, quickly dragging it out of the street before another car could either hit it or **her**!

The male vulpine sighed at the sad, pathetic sight. That was Zootopia for you. A dog-eat-dog world all encompassed within the span of a single city. He had learned long ago from personal experience to never let the prey population or even other predators see they got to him but even he couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy for the woman even as no one else on the street would do anything to give her a helping hand. That was just rough.

Finally Wilde decided that, "Foxes gotta stick together." After all, it's why he had made Finnick his partner after they both left their high school minimum-wage jobs. Not because of the short stuff's intelligence, **especially** with the lack of control the fennec had on his temper... but because he was another fox, another mamma; of the bottom rung of the ladder. The caste the rest of society stepped on and saw as undesirable.

So with a Pawpsicle in hand, the male fox made his way to the edge of the sidewalk, looking both ways. Seeing an opening, the canid wise-guy was quick to rush across the asphalt, leaving his stand unattended–something he normally knew better than to so foolishly do. Once on the other side of the street, he came up beside the kneeling vixen on her left as she perused through her possessions and held out the frozen treat to her. "Rough day?" He asked with a gentle tone.

The female vulpine was startled for a moment before looking up at the source of the voice. She blinked her eyes as she instead caught sight of the treat held out to her in offering. "...I'd say you have no idea but you probably saw all that, huh?" She queried as she tilted her head to look up past the frozen pawp and at the male fox, her soft brown eyes peering out amongst the currently messed up navy tresses of her hair.

The male red fox gave his fellow vulpine a lopsided grin. "It was difficult not to. I think you're the only person around here who could yell loud enough to be heard over the vast majority of mammals on the streets besides myself," he said in all seriousness as he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was at his stand before turning his attention back to the woman who was kneeling by her broken cases. "Now come on. Cheer up and have a pawp. This one's on the house," he said as he waved his hand on his wrist, shaking the pawpsicle for emphasis.

Staring at it for a moment, the female red fox let off a small sigh. "I will after I get my stuff off the street," she said as she grabbed a few more of her things and pulled them off the sidewalk, throwing them haphazardly into her busted suitcase. However, just as she stared to grasp the manila folder that had fallen out of her satchel, the Latina vixen found her mouth suddenly occupied by having a frozen treat placed into it. It was surprising that he did that but... **wow**! That was a distinctly cherry flavor!

"No, you have it right now. Savor the little things in life while you can," the vulpine hustler said as he let go of the flavored ice confection's wooden stick. He knelt down beside her and began to give the vixen a helping hand. Picking up the woman's cell phone with a navy blue cover adorned with what appeared to be raccoon logo in his grasp, he turned and offered it to her along with his name. "By the way, Miss... name's Nick. Nick Wilde. Yourself?"

Bringing a hand up to her face, the woman pulled the frozen goody out of her mouth. Smacking her lips a few times to clear out the distinct fruity flavor, she met her fellow vulpine's gaze. "Carmelita. Miss Carmelita Fox," she replied before popping the treat back in her maw. He was right, the pawp _was_ pretty good. Still, she would have rather suck on it after she got her stuff off the dirty street and out of danger of blowing everywhere.

Still, it was fortunate enough the man was willing to give her a helping paw in that regard too...

...At least until Nick ended up retrieving one of her bras that had fallen out from her suitcase. He held it up in surprise for a moment, a slight flush actually managing to make its way through his facial fur. Quickly handing her the navy blue undergarment he couldn't help but comment, "Really? Thirty-six Double-D?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the Hispanic vulpine could at least give him credit for not overreacting even more so or just holding it aloft for practically everyone to gaze upon. Taking the pawpsicle out of her mouth for a moment, she calmly replied, "Sí." She was about to stick the icy treat back into her maw before pausing as a thought occurred to her. A devious little grin managed to find its way across her muzzle as she added, "And like your pawpsicles, they're all natural."

That gave the man a moment of pause. _God, I hope not_ , the male red fox thought for a moment–as he knew just **what** went into those things–before gracing the lovely Latina vixen with one of his patented lady-killer smiles. "Then you are a very blessed woman and whoever you're with is an extremely lucky mammal."

Nick was surprised as the smile that had managed to blossom on her lovely features suddenly faltered, a more somber mood permeating the air. "I... would rather not think how it ended." She knew Sly was still alive, but the thought of him trapped in the past or blown to some far-flung destination or isolated area in the world–such as Cuba–or something was still bothersome.

She could already envision what the authorities would have done to the raccoon if he ended up landing in Guanotanamo Bay. Sly was too pretty for prison! He was the kind of mammal they used as currency! **CURRENCY!**

The tone of Carm's voice immediately struck a chord with the male fox. "Yeah, isn't that always the way? No matter what animals think about us, they don't seem to want to accept that we foxes are mammals too... with hopes and dreams of our own and that we can be just as crushed when they devastate them." He waxed on surprisingly poetically as he helped gather possessions, such as picking up a pair of jean shorts. Sure, they were a size thirty-four waist but he could tell exactly WHY they were quite larger than what the vixen's lovely hourglass waist needed. _As Gazelle always said, 'hips don't lie'_ , he mentally surmised as he handed the woman the garment that had fallen out of her suitcase after the luggage practically fell apart once she got it safely to the sidewalk.

The two worked in tandem in relative silence for a few minutes, until Nick felt something metallic under his fingers. "Hmm, what's this..." he murmured as he pushed aside a thin pale blue handkerchief and found a gold gleam. Picking up the item, he looked it over and smirked. "Heh," he chuckled under his breath. "Okay, I have to hand it to you, Carm. You've got more balls than most men I've ever met."

That statement caused the woman to blink her eyes a couple of times in confusion. She turned her head to face the male fox, giving him a curious expression. "Pardon?" She asked as she pulled the wooden stick stained a bright red from the frozen cherry syrup out of her mouth.

Holding the woman's badge aloft, Nicholas gave his fellow vulpine a sly grin. "It takes a lot of guts to try and impersonate a cop. I mean, I've seen a few hustles and con jobs in my day but to actually go around with a badge? Sister, major kudos to you. I would _**never**_ have the guts to try something that risky."

Carmelita gave the man a flat look. "News Flash, Mr. Wilde. I **am** a cop. Interpol Special Agent, Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox. If you want, I can call my boss back at the Paris headquarters to confirm it."

His ears flattening back, the male vulpine blinked his green eyes in surprise. "You're serious?" He asked, looking at her to see if she was trying to pull a fast one. Wouldn't be the first time a lovely vixen got one over on him. The trio known as Kozlov's Angels had a certain way about them, that much was certain.

"More serious than a heart attack," the vixen said as she held her upturned hand out to him, fingers waving in a beckoning motion. "Now then, I really would like my badge back... if you don't mind?"

Holding it in his hand for a bit more, the red fox considered the weight as he read the inscriptions on the front of it; slowly rubbing his thumb over the surface. His experience scrutinizing quality to better pull off his own scams led him to believe that this badge was either one hell of a replica or she was the genuine article. "...You really are a policewoman?" He whispered in awe, the disbelief clear in the man's tone.

Nodding her head, the woman pulled her suitcase wide-open, showing the man that within the broken frame of the luggage was a small, plastic composite Beaver-Tough brand hard case. She pulled that professional-grade container out and undid the latches, revealing the shock pistol within. "Ever-armed and ready too." She replied, her voice laced with a tinge of smugness.

Nick's jaw dropped.

Shaking her head at the man's stunned silence the woman gently reached forward and plucked her symbol of authority from his numbed grasp. Carmelita then placed it back into her satchel, making sure it was inside an interior pocket so it wouldn't go flying a third time this day.

Finally after a few moments more of processing that bit of news, the male fox was able to place a voice to his thoughts once more. "Well now... **this** has certainly been an eventful day. Had to move out of my apartment while repairs are being done on it, get to meet a lovely lady, find out she's a cop..." he started chuckling. "Boy, won't..." he trailed off, as a thought occurred to him.

It was a rather out-there idea but one that had some genuine merit. "Say..." he began slowly as he returned his attention to the other vulpine. "Miss Fox?"

Blinking her eyes as the ice-cream vendor called her by her last name, the vixen turned her gaze from her busted satchel to her fellow fox once more. "Sí?" She chimed. "What is it?"

"You don't have a place to stay, do you?" He raised his right hand and thumbed over at the grossly pink-colored building that had forcibly ejected the lovely vulpine in quite the unceremonious manner to reaffirm he _had_ witnessed what happened.

Nodding her head, Carmelita had to admit it did appear such was now the case. Still, she at least knew she wasn't without options. "I'll probably just use the Police Station at this rate," she admitted, knowing it wouldn't be the first time she was practically living at work 24/7. Still, she was curious about his inquiry as to her situation. "Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Nick gave the lovely lady his most dashing of smiles. "I just so happens that I know someone who has some spare rooms at their home... and she lives alone, so it's quite a bit of room. Plus with how things are these days, you can't be too careful with trusting just anyone."

She blinked her brown eyes as she stared at the male fox, giving him her own scrutinizing gaze. "You're right. I can't just trust anyone. So why should I trust you?" She asked in all honesty. "Not that I don't appreciate the help but I barely know you." Heck, she knew Renato more than she did this guy and the ebony-furred jaguar had no problem with leaving her alone and heading off to handle his own affairs. "Besides, I don't need charity. I can handle myself."

Schooling his features after having been so caught off-guard by the fact this was an actual vixen police officer, the male vulpine calmly replied, "We foxes need to stick together." As she looked at him with an inquisitive gaze, Wilde went on to explain, "Look, it's obvious you're not from around here... but I am! I've lived in Zootopia all my life, for better and mostly worse. Every politician and their publicist tries to paint Zootopia as the place, 'Where anyone can be anything because predators and prey live together in peace and harmony while singing Kumbaya My Lord'!" He scoffed at the notion before a frown settled on his face. "Only, wouldn't you know it? It's a load of complete and utter **bull**. If you aren't some sort of herbivore–preferably larger than a beaver–or at least a big and muscular predator with razor-sharp fangs and/or teeth? You're a nuisance, a pest, an undesirable! Merely something to be actively ignored at best or physically kicked to the curb at _worst_."

The male red fox then surprised Carmelita as he brought his left hand up and softly caressed her right cheek, making her hiss as she felt a sudden throb of pain from even the gentlest pressure. "And I once I got a close at you, I could see life here had already started the physical kicking."

Reaching up suddenly, Carmelita roughly pushed his hand away and stood up. "I've been here less than a day and I already feel the same way." Oh how she wanted nothing more than to throw more than a few specist mammals in the slammer for a few days. Not everyone, mind you, mainly the guy who shocked her and the jerk at the counter who had her thrown out. "When the first handshake you get from a prey animal is a jolt from their Taser, it really sours you for the rest of the experience."

"Taser?" Nick queried in alarm. He frowned a bit more as it immediately clicked for him. "Fox Away," the red fox murmured in disgust. It wasn't a question.

Nodding her head in confirmation, the female vulpine scoffed irritably. "The same..." she sighed as she looked over her luggage. "Ugh! This is going to be such a pill to lug around. Having to keep an eye on my busted satchel was bad enough. Now I have to worry about two pieces of luggage falling apart while I haul them back to the Precinct," she grumbled as she tossed the pawpsicle stick in a nearby trash-can.

Standing up as well, the male fox internally winced at the loss of one of the pieces of 'red wood' he needed as part of the delivery for the Cheezits Construction company... but it wasn't like he could just reach in after it in front of a policewoman! Even if she was a fellow fox, it would raise too many questions. No, it was best to keep her from asking any by doing the inquiring himself. "My offer still stands, you know," the male vulpine told her in all honesty. "It's a nice little cottage, practically on the water, a lot of space away from the rest of the city-folk..."

Considering what the man was offering, Carmelita thought about it for a moment, trying to imagine it as he described. Really, it _sounded_ like a good offer, but still... "I'll admit, it's tempting," she told her fellow fox. "But **why** should I trust that you won't try something?" She had met with a few girls that had come across a nice-seeming guy and ended up in the hospital only days later as part of her investigations. The Latina vixen had no intention of ending up another statistic.

Turning his head so that his emerald eyes met the woman's chocolate gaze, he told her, "Okay, three things, Miss Fox. First of all, you're a cop. Anyone who does anything to one of you people in any undue way is just _asking_ for trouble! Be it a lengthy prison stay, a harsh fine, fifteen minutes in a locked room experiencing police brutality first hand, or some combination thereof." Nick stood up, his eyes then drawn to the woman's luggage. "Second, I have my doctorate in Duct Tape-ology. I could perform surgery on your bags in the back while my partner Finnick gives you a guided tour of the magical misery that is the real Downtown."

Raising a navy blue eyebrow up into her hairline, the female red fox crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at her fellow vulpine with a rather questioning gaze. "Really?" She asked with a very prominent disbelieving tone to her voice. "Duct Tape-ology?"

"Hey now! I'll have you know it was a _very_ intense two-hour online class to get certified!" The male fox insisted. The left corner of his mouth tugged into a smile as he elicited a giggle from the canid woman. "And finally..." puffing out his chest and standing as tall as he could, the mammal raised his right hand to the side of his head and saluted her. "I wouldn't lie! Junior Ranger Scout's Honor! It's our duty to be brave, loyal, helpful, and above all else: trustworthy!" He grinned wide, showing off his pearly white teeth.

Carmelita gave him an amused look, before sighing. "Trustworthy, huh? Okay, fine... looks like I lose this one, huh?" As the man winked at her in a playful fashion, Carmelita had to roll her eyes. She didn't know what it was, but Nick reminded her of Sly for some reason. _Probably because he gives off that same troublemaking vibe_ , she surmised before continuing to talk. "So, before I do something I'll likely regret by agreeing completely to this, just be honest. I mean **genuinely** honest. What kind of mess am I going to get myself into?"

Nick's rather toothy grin pulled back into a small, comforting smile that somehow had a small undertone of sadness to the overall expression. "Well, that all depends, really. If you are familiar with Zootopia, then it's going to cost nothing... but if you aren't the trip to get there is going to be quite the eye-opener." His shoulders sagged a little. "I wasn't kidding when I called getting there the, 'magical misery tour'."

Nodding her head in understanding, the Latina vixen replied, "Fine. I can accept that, Mr. Wilde." She held up broken leather satchel, cradling it in her right arm as she motioned to him with a nod of her head. "As for you..." her left hand then waved towards the direction of her busted suitcase. "Care to give me a helping paw with my luggage?"

His smile becoming a lopsided smirk, the red fox couldn't help but tease, "Well sake's alive! Me and a whole bunch of sexy women's clothing! Haven't experienced that since the fifteen minutes I actually got to work at a Victoria's Secret."

That statement made the woman blink her eyes. Looking at the man with genuine surprised etched on her features, the policewoman couldn't help but query. "You worked in a Victoria's Secret?"

"For fifteen minutes," he repeated as he walked over to her luggage and set it upright, noticing the sides wanted to cave out apart from each other, even if the woman had managed to buckle the latches closed again. A small frown came to his muzzle before admitted, "They thought I was a flat-chested teenage vixen until I opened my mouth."

The Latina red fox couldn't help it. Her expression broke out in a wide smile as she fell into a fit of laughter. The mental imagery just struck her as funny. After nearly a minute, she was able to pull herself together and tell the ice-cream vendor, "Okay, okay... I needed that. Thank you."

"Oh no, it's completely true," the vulpine clad in a viridian Hawaiian shirt and striped tie replied as he and the vixen made their way towards the end of the street where the cross-walk was. "Story of my life, really... too short to see over most counter-tops, too short to get a good view of the screen in movie theaters, too short to ride the Screamin' Demon Roar-A-Coaster, and most devastatingly..." he paused for dramatic effect. "Too short to be a Stormtrooper and fight the good fight against Rebel scum in the name of Lord Vader and the Empire!" He sighed in a rather theatric fashion. "Oh the **horrors** of having such a wonderfully petite and girlish figure!"

The woman tilted her head, looking at the other fox curiously for a moment. Despite herself, she decided to play along. "You could have always infiltrated the Rebellion while dressed in drag, you know? I'm sure more than a few lonely rebel scumbags would have loved to have a cute girl around them... especially if 'she' were in the garb that Leia wore in Return of the Jedi."

As the crosswalk light came on and the pair made their way across the street, the male fox gave her a roguish grin. "Personally though? I always saw myself more in the vein of Han Solo. Smuggler, trouble-maker, the mammal every guy wants to be and every woman wants to be with... especially Cattie Fisher," he said with a knowing grin. "Too bad I can safely assume you wouldn't consider yourself the, 'Princess Leia' type."

"You're darn right I wouldn't," the canid cop agreed as she walked beside her fellow vulpine among the throngs of mammals that crossed along the white zebra-striped walkway spray-painted into the black asphalt. "I always consider myself more along the lines of Luke Skywalker. Proud, noble, and willing to do the right thing! To be someone who has the strength of character to stand up and face the forces of darkness, no matter the odds!"

"Just don't go losing a hand now," Nick warned her playfully as they climbed up onto the sidewalk opposite where they came from. "Or worse, you might get the least amount of screen-time when they reboot the franchise!"

The vixen smirked back at her fellow vulpine. "Better than being in it for nearly the entirety only to get offed by an angsty child," the Latina beauty shot back playfully.

That comeback made the male red fox chortle. "Trust me, Carm. Running the risk of being offed by a small, angst-ridden emo short-stuff who wants to run me through with a sharp and/or burning implement of pain and death is something I deal with on an everyday basis." To make his point, he walked over to the green recycling bins and slapped his hand on the side of the largest one a few times. "Come on out, big guy! We're leaving!"

" _ **Leaving!?**_ " An annoyed shout echoed from within the trio of public disposal bins. Before the Hispanic woman could even consider what was going on, a small door on the side slammed open and out stepped a most annoyed-looking fennec fox. "What do you mean, leaving!? We can make another fifteen minutes at least! Wilde, I swear to God! If you're trying to screw me out of my extra ten... percent... I..." he trailed off as he saw the tall and ravishingly beautiful vixen standing beside his partner. "...Sweet Cheeses H-for-Hummus Crackers All-Bitey..." he cursed in the style the progressive Zootopian rodents were more known for, just gob-smacked in awe by the prime example of vulpine beauty before him.

Staring down at the tiny desert fox for a moment, the policewoman turned her attention back to the taller of the two male vulpines, causing her navy blue tresses to bounce for a moment with the swivel of her head. "Is he always this articulate?" Carmelita asked of her fellow red fox as the short mammal stared, his lips still moving even as nothing came out of them.

Nodding his head, Nick couldn't help but reply, "Last time I saw him do this was when he first met Cherry." He leaned over and gently rapped the smaller vulpine atop his scalp. "Hey! Hey! Earth to Finnick! Earth to Finnick." When the little guy's muzzle kept moving wordlessly, he stood up straight and gave the woman a helpless shrug. "Well, that's what you get for choosing the lowest bidder as your minion, am I ri~ _IGHT!?_ " The red fox yelped as he hopped on his left foot, trying to cradle the shin that had gotten sucker-punched.

"That's my line, Wilde. We all know you're **my** Minion," the desert fox firmly stated as he walked up to the much taller red vixen. Looking up to her he pleaded, "Please tell me... I mean, for the love of God tell me you are neither related to this bozo nor dating him. It would be a crime against animality if either was the case."

Although her expression was a stoic one, Carmelita was mentally grinning. Oh she was going to have some fun with this. "Oh, you know how it goes. I took one look at him and just couldn't help myself! I threw myself at Nick as hard as I could and it's taking all I have to keep my hands off of him."

His eyes practically bulged out of his skull from how greatly they widened at the woman's response. " **WHAT!?** " The pint-sized vulpine male cried out in sheer disbelief. "Oh, heaven forbid, Lady! Wilde!? You could do better than Wilde! Hell! _**I**_ could do better than Wilde!" He shouted as he motioned towards the hopping vulpine.

A lovely smile graced the Latina beauty's features. "What can I say? I always love a challenge and Nick seems like the perfect fixer-upper!" She chirruped sweetly as she looked towards the male red fox, taking advantage of his currently inattentive state to bat her eyelashes at him in a loving manner. She didn't want him to get a swelled head if he thought this was genuinely the case, after all but she couldn't pass up the chance to milk the chance to tease the other mammal.

His shoulders sagging in defeat at the continued unfairness of the world, the small vulpine snorted. "Figures. Ain't that _always_ how it goes? A man meets a woman hoping she'll never change, and a woman meets a man hoping she can change him. Story. Of. My. Life." He shook his head in annoyance, making his oversized ears wobble for a bit. Straightening up as tall as his petite stature would allow, he extended a hand in greeting to the much taller woman. "Anyway, where are my manners? The name's Finnick Zerdan. And yourself, beautiful?"

"Carmelita Fox," the woman replied as she squatted down slightly to get closer to the man's eye-level. Shaking hands with him, she began to inquire, "Now then, Nick said something about you giving me a, 'magical misery tour' today."

The fennec's face set back into a hard frown. "Why do you need to go to Happytown?" He asked in all seriousness as he withdrew his hand. He began looking her up and down, sizing the woman up with a scrutinizing gaze. "...You telling me you're some kind of hooker?" It figured. Such would be the only way Wilde would get any.

Needless to say, THAT caught the woman off guard. "...Hooker?" She repeated as she blinked her eyes. A frown now adoring her features, the woman stood up and glared at the direction of her fellow red fox. "Nick..." she called out to the other vulpine in a tone that hinted at the fact she wasn't pleased with that. "What's this about Happytown I hear?"

Slowly coming to a standstill as the throb in his leg lessened–and the need to diffuse a possibly disastrous situation heightened–the vulpine replied, "Yeah, Happytown. Northernmost part of the Downtown District, bordering right on the Rainforest District." Giving her a nervous smile, he calmly added, "You wanted a someplace to stay and I know the perfect place there."

Finnick's orange eyes immediately widened at the implications. "Hold it," he said as he turned to his partner with an air of seriousness. "You want to bring her to Honey?"

Nodding his head, the male red fox replied, "Why not? Weren't you just arguing with me this morning that I should be staying with Honey?"

"You should," the tiny vulpine insisted. "She's alone out there most of the time!"

"Well guess what?" Nick smiled rather deviously at his business partner-in-non-crime. " _Officer_ Fox here could really use a place to stay and we know Honey will show her all the hospitality she does us."

The fennec was about to argue further, only to come to a sudden halt, the words dying in his throat at the implications of what Wilde told him penetrated his skull. The short vulpine blinked his eyes once, twice, three times. "Wait..." he turned his head towards the woman, looking at her with a confused expression. "You're a policewoman?"

The Hispanic vulpine sighed as such information got shared further but nodded her head in affirmation. "I've been trying to keep it low-key until I get started up with the Zootopia Police Department. But yes, I am Inspector Carmelita Fox of Interpol's Paris Division."

The desert fox blinked his eyes once, twice, **thrice**. "...Oh..."

Both Carmelita and Nick watched as Finnick's eyes rolled up into the back of his head before the fennec fell backwards as he passed out–which was fortunately a very short drop for someone of his tiny stature. As she stared down at the smaller vulpine's unconscious form, the woman couldn't help but quip, "Well now... that was unexpected."

Shrugging his shoulders, Nick tried to be nonchalant about it. "Trust me. Finnick doesn't have the best history with cops... one of his first rules of dating is, 'never get involved with the blue'. I think you coming out as one may have fried his poor _little_ brain," he said that last part teasingly in the direction of the unconscious desert fox.

Surprisingly, it elicited a response. "Stop... calling me... little..." the fennec murmured on reflex from his place on the sidewalk; his left foot twitching in his comatose state.

The male vulpine blinked his bright green eyes at that. "But damn, if those big ears of his don't pick up everything."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"...The Apocalypse..." Carmelita said slowly as she sat in the front passenger's seat of the '71 Ford Lobos Edition Econoline van, the desert fox in the driver's seat somehow able to drive the damn thing through the creative use of a number of phone books on the seat and padded 2x4's that were strapped to the pedals through a combination of belts, rope, twine, and duct tape. "This place is the apocalypse..." she murmured as she continued to take in her surroundings as the clunking vehicle made its way through the abandoned streets of Happytown.

The fennec snorted. "That's what most of the Prey said when they took off the collars for good," the desert fox replied in all seriousness, pulling into the currently empty and plant-filled lane meant for oncoming traffic to get around the rusted hulk of an abandoned trolley that filled his lane; the street car's windows broken and its paintjob long-peeled off to reveal the bubbling rust beneath. "When we were finally and truly freed, every pred and their brother abandoned this place like the plague over the next five years that followed, leaving the area a ghost town since '93. After seventy-plus years of being confined to a predator ghetto, they all wanted out."

"Although I must admit, it sounds **much** cooler when you say the Apocalypse happened," Nick commented from his place in the back as he worked on Carmelita's bag; right hand firmly gripping a roll of the silver adhesive fabric tape/multi-tool of the gods. "Then it would have been all, 'Ooooh! Is this place haunted now?' instead of, 'and everyone got the hell out because they hated it'."

Both Carmelita and Finnick nodded at that. Such didn't make it any better but it did sound a bit cooler at least. "Not that I often agree with my pal Wilde here," the small fennec said as he continued to drive about the ruins that made up this section of the city. "But he has a point. Barely anyone comes here anymore. It's gotten to the point where even the city council abandoned it in every aspect, including taking it off the maps and just pretending this is all Downtown! There are practically no services here. Shoot, the only reason Honey still has any utilities is because of her home's proximity to the Rainforest District."

Her gaze trailing over the landscape, the woman frowned at the clashing textures of red and green... rust and overgrowth. "So that's it? This place is left to rot?" The vixen asked as she motioned to the ruins around here.

"To a point," Nick said as he pulled a length of duct tape from the roll he was holding. "You'll only really find 'Restoration Historians' here... not that they're trying to fix anything, God no. This part of town is a cheap source for classic architecture and adornments. Some of those wood carvings and moldings, even if dirty, are still worth a pretty penny." He placed the tape down along with a length of pipe along the side of the suitcase's frame. "And that's not counting any copper wiring they pull out of the buildings' walls."

The vulpine behind the wheel snorted. "Don't you just love global markets pushing the price of things that we once thought were cheap up?" The small fennec shook his head. "I've seen animals rip guard-rails off the side of roads since steel is worth so much." At least no one got hurt when that happened.

And even better, no one saw when **he** did such.

The Hispanic vulpine beauty let off a little depressed sigh at what was going on in this city. "That's still criminal vandalism and theft," she said in all seriousness. "Even if these places are abandoned, they are _still_ part of town property."

The vulpine in the rear section of the van snorted. "Newsflash, my dear Officer Fox... as true as that statement is, it's only a crime if Zootopia presses charges. And since none of those bank managers on the city council gives a rip, let alone send anyone down here to keep an eye on things, such goes unnoticed." He clipped the latches back and forth along the two halves of luggage, checking how badly it wobbled. Nodding his head as the back half was firmer, the vulpine reached for another piece of semi-clean plumbing pipe and went into further duct tape restoration.

The driver shrugged. "Either way, the situation's **bad**. But hey, it could always be worse," the small desert fox said in all seriousness. "We should be glad that there are at least no drug lords that moved in here." It was a small miracle but it was one that most of them were thankful for.

Needless to say, that otherwise idle comment caught the woman's attention something fierce, her ears twitching sporadically as she mentally processed that. Turning her gaze from the road she'd been watching over to the driver, the female red fox couldn't help but inquire, "Hey, Finnick? Are you saying that drugs are a problem in Zootopia?"

The small desert fox snorted, causing his nostrils to flare for a moment. "If you mean in the city overall then no, not really... but if you want to see real drug problems, you should head over to the Meadowlands District for that. It's karma at work if you ask me."

Such a statement made the Interpol officer raise one of her navy blue eyebrows in curiosity. "Karma? You think they deserved it?" The woman asked curiously.

"Oh yeah," the small vulpine nodded as he took a sharp right turn, causing the woman to press against her door and Finnick himself to internally smirk as he could hear the clatter of equipment and the yelping of Wilde from the back of his '71 Lobos. "The Meadowlands were where anyone who was **someone** lived. When Zootopia was founded, the Meadowlands District was _THE_ district to be. Commerce, affluence, political power... all the grazing herbivores who ran this city back in the day lived there. Place had the nickname of, 'Ewetopia' for a good sixty years for a reason!" He smirked in a most devious fashion. "And then the collars came off."

"So everyone who was a criminal or had no skills except how to make drugs moved out of here and into one of the more influential districts?" Carmelita grimaced as she considered that. She knew from experience such always made things harder. It was easy to find drug runners in small towns and slums but in more affluent buildings and areas? Oh, that was a pain. Between the locals pitching a fit about the police coming in or pitching a fit AT the police about unsavory elements hanging around, it was damned if you did and damned if you didn't.

"Not everyone... but enough," the fennec replied. "The bigger irony is that the majority of those chemists? It's the herbivores themselves. With a number of their family heads vacating office after the whole collar scandal came to light to the rest of the country, they had trouble finding their niches in the new political climate. And it didn't help that the _gentrified_ Sahara Square pretty much took all of the tourism and major business from that area during the Nineties. All those prey animals with their overpriced college degrees in science, pharmacy, and chemistry turned to producing Smack to make end's meet. They're the ones that brought the preds into their area even faster to act as their dealers, protection, and entice to be customers. For all its once proud glory, atop hilly slopes that look down on the rest of Zootopia, the Meadowlands is now almost as bad as Happytown!" He blinked his eyes for a moment and raised his right hand, motioning forward. "But enough of that! We're here!"

Carmelita turned her attention from the smaller mammal and back to the road and her immediate surroundings. Directly ahead was a cobblestone archway, one that definitely showed its age as portions of the stone bridge were covered in moss, partially blending it into the two partitions of land it connected. As the van drove over it, the vixen was surprised to find that the destination itself was in a lot better shape than the rest of the area. Someone had obviously been keeping an eye on it along with the structures that dotted the real estate parcel; a water tower, a barn and a simple ranch house. "It's... a farm?"

"That it is," Nick replied from the back as he tore another strip of duct tape from the roll. "Nice little piece of rural utopia near wild urban sprawl." He then fidgeted with the woman's luggage some more, nodding his head as it didn't wave, lean from side-to-side, or try and collapse in on itself–always a plus, to be certain! "It was Honey's desire long ago to have a nice little country home. I stop by now and then to make sure it remains more 'country' than 'jungle'."

Pulling the vehicle up close to the house, the small desert fox put the van into its parking gear. "All right, we've arrived! Everybody get out!" The small fennec shouted as he turned the key and shut off the engine. He turned to look up at the taller female vulpine with a knowing smile. "And that, my dear, was the magical misery tour... remember, all gratuity is welcome."

The vixen nodded her head. "We'll see," she told the little guy as she pulled the handle to her right and pushed open the door. Unbuckling her seatbelt, the policewoman stepped out and dropped onto the ground; her left arm reaching back to grasp the van door and close it behind her. Stepping forward, the Hispanic red fox looked out at the surroundings. Everything was showing its age–that was for darn certain–but the house and its amenities were a step above everything she'd seen so far in this section of town in terms of quality. "You're certain this Honey person will be okay with me staying here? I didn't see either of you call ahead."

Nick's voice spoke up from within the van. " _She lives here alone. So for her, it will be nice to have someone to spend time with_."

Her ears twitching atop her head at the now familiar sound of the van's slightly rusted back doors opening, Carmelita turned her head and saw her fellow red fox at the back of the vehicle, the mammal standing there proudly, hands on his hips. At either side of him were the blue-tressed vixen's bags, the luggage set looking similar to a creation of Jackson Pollock if the artist had worked in duct tape. "Well?" The pawpsicle salesman queried as he had the woman's attention. "What do you think?"

"...They look so damn chintzy..." the woman replied as she walked over to the rear of the van and picked up her satchel. Placing it on her shoulders, she rotated her arm in the socket, trying to get the thing to swing. Nodding her head, she returned her gaze to the male fox and replied, "But passable. This will certainly tide me over until I can buy a new set. Muchos gracias, Nick."

He smiled at the woman's show of gratitude in Spanish. The male red fox rather liked hearing her speak it, finding it rather exotic. "Not a problem, my dear Miss Fox." Bringing his hands up before him, the male vulpine rubbed them together. Now then, shall we go say hello?"

Nodding her head in agreement, the Latina beauty replied, "Please." She accepted her suitcase from him as well, allowing the male vulpine to jump out of the back of the Ford Econoline. The male mammal slammed the doors shut before he started leading the way across the dirt path that went straight to the front door; the red fox pulling a key ring out of his pocket and flipping through the small pieces of metal.

Coming to a stop at the entrance, Nick pushed his key into the lock and turned; the sound of the tumblers unlatching audible to everyone thanks to how quiet the surrounding area was. Turning the key back and then tugging it free from the lock in the handle, the male red fox pocketed the key set before grasping the door knob and twisting it. Pushing the door inward, the slick huckster couldn't help but smirk as he stepped in as he released a melodious call of, "Honey! I'm home!"

Sighing in exasperation at the man's antics, the Hispanic vixen shook her head good-naturedly before stepping it... and nearly dropping her satchel in shock. The exterior of the home may have been simple and utilitarian with minimal shapes and windows but now that she was inside, Carmelita felt as if she'd been transported back to a 1950's America. Everything around her in the interior of the home emphasized hand-made skills over mass-production. While kept simplistic in form, the visibility of distinguished craftsmanship was evident even under the layers of dust that had settled over the room. All the clean lines and natural materials, particularly with the exposed rafters decorated with hand-carved Colonial-styled adornments really struck a chord with the female vulpine. It was all so simplistic yet with a rustic charm that somehow bordered onto being its own level of luxuriousness.

At the policewoman's continued silence, Nick turned back to look at her, a knowing smile already on his face. "What do you think, Officer Fox?"

"This is... actually kind of nice," the vixen admitted after a few moments of gazing about as she stepped further into the house, her eyes drawn over the vintage living room set. "I mean, sure the place is a bit old... but it's in a way that's aesthetically pleasing."

The red fox's smile widened. "It's as she wanted it. I do my best to dust once in a while but the majority of my attention is mostly focused on the most important room of the house." The grin that graced his muzzle became a teasing smirk. "The kitchen!"

Watching the man head off further into the place, Carmelita almost went right after him, only to yelp in surprise as the fennec suddenly got ahead of her by going between her legs. "Manners, Finnick!" She called out before walking after the two vulpine males, now very glad she had gone with wearing jeans over a skirt.

Making her way into the kitchen after the pair, the female red fox managed to relax a bit once more. It would appear that at least someone–likely Nick if his comments were to be believed–had been keeping this room clean; its surfaces practically shone with a freshly waxed gleam. The majority of the cooking space may have been shoved into one corner section of the room but that allowed space for the _HUGE_ appliances that seemed to have been dropped off directly from the Fifties! And considering American craftsmanship back then, they were all likely still in working order, albeit their energy efficiency might have sent meter readers running for the hills. Besides that though, there was plenty of room to eat; the built-in breakfast nook was adorable and romantic! A lovely window setting for two to recline in and gaze out as they shared a meal.

The only oddity that the Interpol Inspector noticed was that a black telephone cable reached straight from the wall-mounted rotary phone and traveled across the floor to where it disappeared underneath the kitchen sink's curtained cabinetry. "You know, there are better phones than that," she commented to Nick while pointing out the old handset hanging from the wall

At the vixen's assessment, the red fox nodded his head in complete agreement. "True. But it's not my phone and Honey doesn't trust cellular technology. Speaking of which," the pawpsicle hustler switched gears as he made his way over to the sink. "It's time to meet your landlord for the foreseeable future!" The male vulpine chimed as he pulled aside the curtain, revealing that it wasn't just an empty space and pipes but that there was an open porthole in the floor! The thick, circular metal door had been removed and placed along the back of the wall to allow easy access. "Come this way, Miss Fox!"

"...You do know there are WAY too many Slasher Flicks that start out like this, right?" Was the female vulpine's rather curt reply. It was sketchy enough to get into a dilapidated van but to head out to the middle of nowhere and be asked to drop down into a hole? The only reason that she didn't kick both their asses and haul them into the station for attempted kidnapping that very moment was because they weren't triggering any of her usual intuitive instincts–not even one orange sparkle! As unnerving as this was, the two were being legitimate with her...

...

...Didn't mean she couldn't give them shit for _ACTING_ so stereotypically criminal!

The male fox chuckled. "Oh, I know. Believe me, I know. But Honey doesn't come to the surface. Not anymore. It's why I figured you would enjoy this place. You would have the actual house to yourself. We merely need to ask the owner's permission first." He motioned to the hole again, trying to get her to go on ahead.

When the Latina vixen just kept looking at him with an expression that practically asked, 'really' Nick let off a sigh. "Fine, fine... let me go first. I'll show you there's nothing to worry about." So saying, the male red fox sat down and slid himself underneath the cabinetry, making sure the heel of his foot touched the first ladder step-handled before turning about and ne began climbing down...

...Only to let out a girlish scream!

"NICK!" The female vulpine shouted out as she dropped her suitcase, long-ingrained muscle memory from training and on-the-job experience springing into action, the woman ready to retrieve and prep her shock pistol.

"RELAX!" Wilde called back quickly from within the hole. "It was a spider! Just a spider! My bad!" He chuckled nervously, now glad he had already gotten quite a distance. He didn't want the woman to see how badly embarrassed he was. _Pretty certain I look like a sunburn victim_ , he thought as he made his way along the ladder, going down...

Down...

Down...

 _Sweet Cheeses, it_ _ **is**_ _a bit of a haul to get down here, isn't it?_ Nick couldn't help but think as he continued to descend the ladder. Going a considerable distance, the male fox was eventually able to jump off and land in the subterranean lair that was partially illuminated by a few storm lanterns. The bunker was–in maybe its original form–what one would expect from the decade it was made and installed. An era where one still had some fear that they would wake up and find the terror of the Red Menace–hungry polar bears drunk on communism and vodka–outside their door was still a real threat.

And then she got a hold of it and made it her own.

The edges of the room were covered with metal frame cabinets filled to the brim with MREs, bottles of water, and other assorted non-perishable foodstuffs. Behind the structures and then some were a vast assortment of maps and diagrams. The paper outlines covered nearly every available space on the walls while the area's floor was cluttered with all kinds of things: paint buckets, a golf bag filled with bottle rockets, and canisters of fuel to name but a few.

Not that all of it made that sense to the red fox.

Where was the air exchange? After all, carbon dioxide poison and fumes from the fuel, should have taken Honey's life years ago and the few lights in there would not support plant life.

Not that there was any.

And where did her... solid waste go? Aside from the disposed containers of food and water, her... used waste was nowhere to be found and no toilet was seen. That also assumed some of those bottles didn't have something other than water in them.

If she didn't plan to leave the bunker, why did she need the shovel, the fuel–that had no use inside the bunker, as nothing in there ran on fuel–the maps, and conspiracy equipment? What were the rockets for, as the ceiling was not exactly tall enough to enjoy such a show?

In the end, it hinted that Honey's bunker had even more secrets than even he had yet to see... and a sense that if he asked, the answers–should he be able to accept them–might end up with him not being allowed to leave... alive.

Nick may have been like a son to the badger and she a mother to him but there was no doubting that the woman was also a _**very**_ paranoid individual.

He didn't get more time to dwell on it when the vixen finally joined him down in the bunker. Looking about, she couldn't help but let off a low Whistle. "Dulce Jesús... what is all this?" She queried as she turned about in place, getting a look at all the equipment. There was enough shearing equipment to supply a small army! "Is she expecting the Russians to drop bombs?" Carmelita asked as she turned her gaze back towards her fellow fox.

The male vulpine shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, something worse. Riots in the streets because predators and prey can't take it anymore and start attacking each other because one of them did something stupid," Nick replied. He wasn't exactly lying but he didn't think Miss Fox needed to know the full story... at least not right away.

However, introductions _were_ upon them. The male vulpine's right ear twitched as a familiar female voice spoke up. "Nick? Nick is that you?"

His muzzle breaking out into a small smile, the male red fox turned about, his viridian eyes darting about the bunker before settling on one of the backpacks that began moving before it slowly turned around. "Yeah, it's me! Come on out, Honey! I got someone for you to meet!"

Hearing that, the policewoman's own chocolate orbs scanned about the messy bunker before Carmelita caught sight of a female honey badger. She was decked out in green camouflage fatigues, a yellow muscle shirt, and a padded khaki vest covered in all sorts of pockets. All of which was rather tight on her. Even though the woman was of a fairly feminine build–even with those short and sturdy legs–she maintained a somewhat menacing appearance thanks to her distinctly thick-set and broad muscles across the back. Her pelt of purple fur so dark it was nearly black with a pattern of white along her backside and into her hair was covered with filth and crumbs; mostly dirt from obviously having been in this underground lair for so long. "Hola?" She carefully called out in greeting.

The mustelidae turned her head sharply, causing the dog-tags on her ball-chain necklace to clink and jingle as looked over the rim of her orange sunglasses with green-blue eyes, the gaze firmly staring over the bridge of her band-aid adorned muzzle to settle her gaze firmly on the vixen. "Nick?" The female badger said slowly as she began to walk up to the pair. "Who is this?" She asked curiously... a suspicious tone evident to her voice.

Giving the older mammal one of his patented reassuring smiles, the male fox helpfully replied, "Well Honey, I'd like you to meet my friend, Carmelita Fox. Carmelita, this is Honey Badger."

Managing to smile despite how uncomfortable she felt underneath the other woman's firm, almost accusatory gaze, the vixen reached a hand out to her in greeting. "Sí, I am Carmelita. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Badger." Her smile became a tad strained as the other woman just stared at her hand.

Looking up from the vixen's extended paw, the stocky woman looked back and forth between Nick and Carmelita a number of times, as if considering something about them. Finally, she closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "Fine," she stated tiredly. "You have my blessing. But really, Nick! If you want permission to marry someone, you should be asking Francine!"

The Hispanic vulpine's pupils dilated into pinpricks at the honey badger's assumption. She sputtered a bit in shock before managing to blurt out, "Ma'am! I can assure you—"

"Why, yes of course!" Nick interrupted, glancing back at Carmelita who was blushing like crazy. "But, um... she's not my fiancée. I kind of just met her today."

The woman who appeared to be a Doomsday Prepper was completely flabbergasted at that admission. "And you want to move in with her _**already**_!?" Honey asked, shock evident on her face and in her voice. She shook her head before letting off a good-natured chuckle. "Oh, you move quick, Nick. What happened to the sweet and innocent boy I knew and help raised?"

Shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, the male vulpine smiled as he answered, "What can I say?" He brought his right hand up and motioned to himself. "Sly fox!" Said hand then reached over and motioned to the woman beside him. "Sultry vixen! It's a match made in heaven, am I right?" He then cackled deviously, even as the policewoman elbowed him.

Her face glowing bright red from a blush that was trying to go atomic, the Hispanic vulpine corrected, "To be honest, while it's true that I've just recently arrived to Zootopia, Mr. Wilde and I are **not** engaged. He has, however, been a gentleman–for the most part–giving me assistance when I needed help. I had been given a lot of warnings concerning Zootopia but this place is proving itself to be worse than expected."

The older badger scoffed. "Isn't that **always** the way?" The woman queried as she shrugged off her backpack and straightened up, revealing that she was just as tall as the vixen was. Now at eye-height with the vulpine, the female mustelidae queried, "But now comes the real question. Just why are you here? Nick knows better than to show strangers my bunker. It's my number one rule: only family gets to come here in emergencies!"

"Then why do I get to come here?" Finnick piped up as he finally finished climbing the ladder. Being a much smaller mammal, it took him a bit more time.

Looking down at the desert fox, the female honey badger smirked. "Because I do consider you family... sure, you'd be the foul-mouthed nephew who is a pain in the tuckus, but you're family all the same." Honey then gazed to Nick, those eyes holding an almost disapproving gleam. "And if she's not your fiancée or even a girlfriend, then why?"

His smile still holding despite the chiding tone to the voice of the woman he considered his secondary mother, the male red fox calmly replied, "Well Honey, you know how you've always been saying you wished security was better around here?"

Nodding her head firmly, the badger replied, "Of course! Can't trust those sheep! They're just waiting to unleash the rams of war and wage a wooly hell upon us all!" She trembled. "They'll graze this world into a desert wasteland!"

Nick was quick to cut in before the woman could fully go into one of her patented conspiracy-theory tirades and effectively scare off the policewoman. "Well, you're in luck!" the vulpine conman practically cooed. "Allow me to introduce you to my new friend again, Honey. This is _Inspector_ Carmelita Fox of **Interpol**!"

Needless to say, such a statement did derail Honey's train of conspiratorial thoughts. She blinked her eyes a couple of times as her brain processed that statement. _Interpol? Sounds like it means_... the woman thought before speaking aloud. "Wait!" She quickly turned her attention back to the female red fox. "Is that short for International Police or something?"

"Yes, it is," Carmelita replied as she frowned at the direction of her fellow red fox before returning her attention to the badger in full. "I've been keeping it on the down-low but I guess if I'm going to get to live here, then you need to know that much about me." She took a deep breath, using the moment to both gather her thoughts and calm herself. "To be brief: Zootopia is enacting something they've designated as the, 'Mammal Inclusion Initiative'. They're trying to give disenfranchised and down-trodden mammals an easier time to make something of themselves... yet instead of waiting for people to be trained and introduced to their fields of choice, the city's bureaucrats made a request to Interpol to borrow one of their agents who represents what this movement is about." She shrugged her shoulders. "So for the next six months or so... here I am!" The Hispanic vulpine smiled a tad nervously. "I apologize if this is out of the blue, but the way things have gone for me upon arrival, a lot of my own plans have been shot to hell. I was hoping to make a deal with you for shelter since the condo I was supposed to be staying at evicted me before I even got to see it simply because I'm a fox."

Considering the woman's words for a moment, Honey looked into those brown eyes with her own aquamarine gaze. Her nose twitched for a moment as she mulled over the concept of this Initiative before nodding her head. "So you're a trained officer of the law from elsewhere in the world? Someone who hasn't grown up under the oppressive yoke of the prey?"

Nodding her head, Carmelita replied, "Yes. In fact, I've been all over this planet–a number of times in fact–and I am stationed out of Interpol's Paris headquarters. So yes, Ms. Badger, I am."

"I see, I see," the tough woman murmured as she thought about it, before grinning. "Tell you what. You're going to be part of the ZPD for the next half year or so, right?" As the vixen nodded her head, Honey told her, "Well then let's see if we can't come to a deal. I'll gladly let a fine officer of the law use my home on two conditions. The first is you will have to do your own laundry and grocery shopping for the house. I don't get out much..."

The female red fox's gaze darted back and forth across the bunker, realizing that such was certainly true. "I... I can tell," she admitted uncomfortably before her attention was drawn back to the other woman again. "And the second request?"

Now Honey just smirked. "Get the police to give you one of their squad cars in return for the hassle this city's given you so you can commute; it's a long way between the police station and Happytown. Then, whenever you're here, you make sure that bad boy's parked right out front prominently so people know a policewoman lives here! Can you do that?"

Carmelita blinked her eyes. That was... surprisingly reasonable. "That's it?" She queried in slight disbelief. "You don't want a monthly rent or anything?"

The female honey badger shook her head. "No, I'm set financially. Just fresh food and a big advertisement of police presence is all I ask for in return."

To that response, Carmelita could only shrug her shoulders in mild amusement. While an odd request to say the least, such wouldn't be too hard to keep up with in the long run. "All right," the woman finally agreed. "I can do that."

A smile blossomed across the badger's muzzle. "Good! Now them, there are a few bedrooms upstairs, so take your pick to whichever one you want to use." Even as she said that, she was turning away from the vixen to look at Nick. Her gaze firm, she began to chide, "And you, Nicholas! It's been almost a month to the day since I saw you last! You really should come over more often! I miss seeing my little boy!"

The male vulpine shrugged helplessly. "I know, I know..." he replied honestly. "It's just that life keeps me busy. Gotta keep on hus—working hard to keep with the bills. Mom isn't going to get what she needs if I don't keep my nose to the grindstone."

Seeing a way to get back at Mr. Wilde for trying to lead the woman on with thinking they were a couple, the female red fox chirruped, "Why don't you and Finnick stay for dinner, Nick?" She chirruped. "It will be my treat! We'll eat down here, make a party of it and have a chance to get to know one another better," Carmelita added. "Think of it as a, 'thank you' for all your help."

Finnick snorted. "Good luck. We can either take a long drive back to Savanna Central and bring something back or we order out. And there are only two places deliver all the way out here; pizza and Chinese." He motioned to a section of the bunker where Honey's own wall-mounted phone was stationed, a pair of take-out menus taped at either side.

Making her way over to the phone, Carmelita pulled the, 'Panda Expressions' menu off the wall and unfolded it. She looked it over, checking out the available options, slightly impressed that it appeared to have some meat options–albeit eggs and fish–available. Turning the look at the other three, she queried, "So... you three up for Chinese then?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick was grinning from ear-to-ear. "As long as you're the one paying, then sure!" He was never one to turn down an otherwise free meal.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was almost a half hour later, but the food did eventually arrive. Carmelita wasn't too surprised to see the delivery girl was a perky, bubbly, purple-haired pink feline teenage girl when she answered the door... but the overweight panda sitting behind the wheel of the semi-rusted hatchback that was the delivery vehicle was a bit of a surprise. "Um... hello?" She greeted in slight confusion at the sight.

A smile blossomed on the housecat's face. "Nihao!" She greeted in Chinese before switching to English. "You order food from Panda Expression, yes?"

Nodding her head, the female vulpine replied, "Yes. Order for Miss Fox. And you are, Miss...?"

The feline blinked her bright purple eyes once, twice, thrice. "Ah! Where is manners?" The girl chided herself. "Many apologies. I is Xian Pu. Sorry for funny speaking, Xian Pu is still learning English."

Nodding her head, the red fox could admit such was understandable at least. It would also appear that what Nick mentioned was true; the Chinese Migrants that came over seemed to be the most open-minded of _anyone_ in Zootopia. She was very polite despite Carm being a vixen and the girl herself was a predator working hand-in-hand with a prey animal. "Just double checking to make sure we got everything... never can tell if there'll be a miscommunication or not."

The purple kitty nodded, albeit she appeared to be a little insulted at that insinuation. "Is no problem at all! Xian Pu double check to make sure! Fried rice, lo mein, crab ragoon, Dr. Ono's Tofu and much more all in there, as well as comply... campy..." she frowned, finding herself lacking the proper words. "As are free egg rolls and fortune cookies!"

"All right then," Carmelita replied. Realizing she had possibly hurt the woman's feelings, she apologized, "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I've just had orders come out wrong is all." Left unsaid that it was often while she was IN China. She'd ended up in the largest country in the world on missions more times than she cared to recount.

The petite and perky feline girl waved it off. "Is no problem. Panda only speak Chinese, so old monkey send Xian Pu to medicate... mediocre..." she trailed off. Grimacing, the poor kitty let out a groan of frustration. "Xian Pu is one to talk to customers at door!"

A smile gracing her muzzle, Carmelita couldn't help but chuckle good-naturedly. Despite the language barrier, the younger woman was all pep and vinegar, refusing to let it keep her down. That was the sort of, 'can do' spirit Zootopia needed more off. "I do hope the city is treating you well," the Latina vixen said as she walked over to where she set her satchel on the living room couch. Opening the top, she retrieved her wallet. "How much did you say it was?"

"Including tax, tip, and delivery fee is fifty-two dollar and forty-seven cent," the feline chirruped merrily as she held up the two large paper-bags within plastic bags in either of her hands. "Xian Pu cannot help but notice you order too-too much food for one person. Is for party, yes?"

Nodding her head, the female vulpine withdrew a fifty and a twenty dollar bill from her wallet. "It is," the female red fox replied, placing the leather money holder back into her satchel before she returned to the door. Taking one of the bags filled with all kinds of takeout boxes, she replaced the purple feline's now empty paw with the money. "Keep the change," the policewoman replied as she used her now empty right hand to grasp the other bag from her.

Blinking her eyes, the feline took a moment to check out the cash she was given; her purple eyes widening with surprise. "Aiyah! Thank you very, **VERY** much foxy lady!" The feline looked up from the wad of cash and grinned. Stuffing it down the front of her shirt, she replied, "Always feel free to order from Panda Expressions whenever you want! Okie-dokie?"

Smiling back at the younger feline, Carmelita had to admit the girl's genuine exuberance and bubbly positive attitude were rather infectious. "You bet I will!" The Hispanic vulpine promises. It didn't hurt that if what the others had said was true, this restaurant was just one of only two places that _WOULD_ deliver to the area. "You drive safely now, okay?"

"Oh, no worries! We drive fine!" Xian Pu chirruped. "Old man Genn know to avoid rusty hulks of vehicles and other trash in road. Still easier than trying to drive Savanna Central during Rush Hour!"

A chuckle escaped the vixen's lips at that response. Oh, she could only imagine. "You take care now," she said, bidding adieu to the teen feline as she closed the door with her foot. Making her way back into the kitchen, she called out, "FOOD'S HERE!"

The curtain underneath the sink was pulled aside, revealing the male red fox standing there, Wilde visible from the chest up from where he was propped up in the bunker's entrance. "Great! Now pass me one of those bags; I'll give you a hand bringing this all down."

The Latina vixen frowned a bit. "We're not eating in the kitchen?" She asked, sounding very confused. The place was clean and ready as it was ever going to be!

A small chuckle reverberating in his throat, the pawpsicle hustler shook his head in a negative fashion. "Sorry, Carm. Like I said before: Honey doesn't leave her bunker anymore." The tiny smile that had graced his features faded into a slight frown. "Heck, she's been down here for nearly three decades now..."

Carmelita blinked in surprise at that. Three decades!? "But didn't you say that you knew her for a long time?" How would he have gotten to know her if she had kept herself hidden inside a hole in the ground for so long?

Nodding his head, Nick replied, "Yep. She's been down there since I was five-years-old..." he trailed off as he realized he kind of gave away **his** age with that. He didn't understand why her knowing such would bother him, but it did. "Anyway, the reason why is _not_ my story to tell. And if I were you, I wouldn't go trying to pry it from Honey until she gets to know you a bit better. Now then..." the red fox reached his right arm out, his hand upturned as he made a beckoning motion. "If I can take one of the bags, m'lady? I doubt you'll be able to climb the ladder safely with both hands full."

Considering it for a moment, the vixen soon relented and handed him the bag of takeout with her right hand. "Just be careful yourself then," she warned him.

The male fox seemed unperturbed. "Please. Don't worry your pretty little head about me," he replied with that slick grin of his once more. "I've had practice bringing stuff down here. Trust me when I say, something like this?" The man bounced the paper-bag in his grasp by the exterior plastic's handle. "It's nothing. Chinese comes practically designed for one-handed carry! If you want a _real_ challenge, you should try carrying pizzas while keeping the whole box upturned! I have ruined more cheese and toppings over the years than I care to admit..."

Waiting for the man to start making his way down and open up the area for her to get underneath the kitchen sink, Carmelita shook her head as she followed after him. Once she had a foot on the ladder, she started to climb on down, telling her fellow red fox, "I can only imagine. I bet it wasn't fun trying to eat it, let alone clean up."

A small chuckle reverberated in the male vulpine's throat. "Oh, not at all," the experienced hustler agreed as he made his way down the metal pipe ladder steps easily, showing his years of experience off. "But, hey, at least it was just pizza! I don't _dare_ eat soup down here unless I make in the bunker!"

Continuing to climb down the ladder, the female vulpine agreed, "Noted." She could only imagine trying to bring down an open bowl. However, all thoughts of balancing such a dish were stricken from her mind at the sight that greeted the woman. The Latina beauty had to blink her eyes at what she caught sight of when she came down. There was a table already set with four placements of Stryofoam plates, plastic utensils, and clear plastic cups. "...Where did she get the table from?" She couldn't help but ask.

Long used to the preparedness of the female badger, the male vulpine could only shake his head at the Hispanic woman's shock and awe. "Trust me: it's best not to think about it. Such thoughts will only keep you up at night," Nick told the Interpol Officer. As she got close to the bottom of the ladder, the male red fox reached a hand out to take the second bag from her so she would have both free hands. "Questions like those can only lead to madness." He warned before turning his attention back to the other two who had been waiting patiently in the bunker. "Well guys, Carm came through!" He raised his arms and held the double-bagged orders of Chinese food. "We have a feast! Yes, a feast that will likely leave us hungry again an hour from now but a smorgasbord of actual protein nonetheless!"

"Unless it's all rice, I doubt we'll be too hungry in an hour," Honey replied as the male vulpine carefully dropped the two large bags on the table. "That stuff is too easily digested..." she murmured, speaking from experience. It was why she replaced all her grain sacks of rice with bags of beans and ones with Honey Nut Cheerios.

"Yes, but it is healthier than most of the stuff Chinese restaurants make," the small fennec countered, a slight grimace plastered on his face as he looked down at the chair the honey badger was offering him. "Why do I get the booster seat?"

The female mustelidae sighed as the small mammal got all pouty. The boy always had to make things difficult and get defensive when something implied his height–or lack thereof–didn't he? "Because this table wasn't designed for someone you," Honey shot back at him. "Now please, relax." She then lifted the small vulpine up as if he were but a little baby. "And besides, you'll always be that cute little cub that was getting in trouble with Nick to me," she cooed as she set him down. With Finnick settled, the honey badger began tearing into the closest paper bag, removing the numerous white takeout boxes of Chinese food. She smiled as she inhaled the heavenly aromas that assaulted her nose. "Oh, this is going to be delicious."

Sniffing at the air herself, the Hispanic vixen had to nod her head in agreement to the other woman's assessment. "I hope so. The delivery girl said it had Dr. Ono-style tofu and sweet crab ragoons." Pulling a chair out for herself, Carmelita couldn't help but feel her mouth begin water. It had been so long since she last ate any real food that she could barely wait any longer.

"Ah, crab ragoons," the canid conman cooed as he took a seat opposite the female red fox who had paid for their meal. "Personally though, I'm more of an egg drop soup kind of guy." He said as he opened the second bag, revealing small plastic containers: boxes and tubs. He held up rounded quart container filled with the yellow soup made from delicious eggs, small wontons, and sliced chives. "Hope no one minds if I take one of the soups all for myself now."

Reaching into the bag the other fox had opened, the Latina beauty waved him off. "Go ahead. I had placed three orders of it at your behest." As she said that she retrieved and opened a plastic container filled with teriyaki tofu and broccoli, the aromatic steam rising from it as she did so. "Ooooh... now this is going to be delightful. My first bite of REAL food all day!" She cheered as she reached for a fork.

At hearing that comment, the badger paused in scooping fried rice onto Finnick's plate. She looked up and gave the vulpine woman a curious glance. "All day?" Honey queried as she dug the spoon into the container again, making certain to keep her attention on the younger woman.

Nodding her head in affirmation, Carmelita explained, "Yep. A package of airline peanuts on the plane ride over for breakfast, a slice of chocolate pie at a famers' market for lunch, and one of Nick's cherry pawpsicles for a snack were my meals so far..." she idly trailed off as she finished scooping a large portion of the steaming teriyaki-boiled tofu onto her plate with big pieces of broccoli.

That answer made the underground-dwelling mammal blink her aquamarine eyes in surprise. "Chocolate pie?" Honey repeated, the thought of such tickling a memory of hers. "Heh. It's been a long time since I had any. I remember this one man, he made the best pies I ever had before he and his family picked up and moved out of the Happytown before the collars even came off. I wonder if he or his family are still making them..." she wondered wistfully, remembering good times long since passed.

To that inquiry, Carmelita could only shrug her shoulders before answering, "If they were foxes and the family name was, 'Grey' then yes they are." The woman began shaking her head, trying to dispel the memories of earlier that day and finding she was failing miserably. "Not sure I'll ever go back there though. Friggin' specist rabbits," she huffed in indignation. Suppressing a growl she felt like releasing at the nasty thoughts of how she got her ass handed to her by tiny rabbits, the female red fox attempted to get off the topic as queried, "Anyone have the lo mein?"

"Right here," the desert fox replied as he motioned to one of the small white cartons near him. He pushed it closer to the taller vulpine woman with his plastic spoon for emphasis.

Picking it up in her hand the box's wire handle, the female red fox nodded her head to Finnick in gratitude. "Gracias," she told him as she opened it up. Grasping her fork, she began to shovel noodles, bamboo shoots, onions sprouts, diced carrots, and bits of fried egg onto her plate.

A bit of time passed, laughter and words shared between the quartet of predatory mammals as camaraderie built up amongst them, the vixen easily being accepted amongst the little clique. It didn't take long for the food to be shared and quickly inhaled by the four people, especially Carmelita, who noticeably ate more than anyone else.

Watching the younger woman finish off a package of fried noodles by herself, the older mustelidae smirked. "You know, if it wasn't for the fact that you said you hadn't eaten all day, I'd think something was rather fishy..." Honey said teasingly, eyes darting back and forth between the vixen and the red fox.

"No need to worry about that. I was just starving, nothing hidden here," the Latina policewoman was quick to reply, knowing exactly _what_ Honey was hinting at and not willing to acknowledge it. If it had been, such would have been Sly's and... that would have made things even more complicated.

"Still, despite you eating a good deal of it, we do thank you for the meal," Nick said in all seriousness. Leaning back in the chair he was using, the male vulpine brought his hand up to rub a satisfied belly. "Helps make up for the lost hours today."

At his partner's comment, Finnick's large ears noticeably flattened back in defeat. "And I was supposed to be making an extra ten-percent today..." he grumbled irritably, Wilde once again having ruined something he had enjoyed. Damn it! This was why he couldn't have nice things! The idiot screwed it up for him constantly! _Note to self: find ways to inflict more pain on Tricky Nicky's shins_ , the tiny vulpine internally promised himself.

The vixen blinked her brown eyes in response as she looked back and forth between the pair of men. "Pardon?" She queried, genuinely curious. "I caused you to lose work?"

Nick nodded his head at the canid cop's inquiry. "We were selling flavored ice pawps when we met you. I had promised Finnick that if he carted me around, he would get an extra ten-percent of today's haul." With her being a police officer, it was best to be as honest as needed. "I needed his help to move some of my stuff earlier in return for giving him a higher cut." At the vixen's raised eyebrow, he merely shrugged, not wanting to go any further.

Besides, if he went into greater detail, Honey would get worried about him again...

Carmelita couldn't help but frown, not only at the reply but at her fellow vulpine's tone of voice. She had to admit, the combined effect of the two made the Latina beauty feel a tad guilty. "So I made you miss out on your day's usual haul?" Considering how the city had treated her, she could understand why these two missing out on a day's full pay could be a troublesome thing.

"Oh, don't you fret now, Carm. It wasn't your fault," the male fox replied as he waved a spoon at her. "I mean, what kind of selfish jerk would I have been if I just ignored it like every single other person on the street?" Yes, it felt like he was trying to scam her... and in a way he _**was**_... but it was only for her benefit, _really_! Had to get the woman to realize that she needed someone to keep an eye out for her and all that if she was to accept the business proposal he had for her!

Snorting, Finnick was quick to reply, "Simple. You would have been a fox."

"Ouch..." the red fox clad in Hawaiian shirt chirruped. "You know, all that self-loathing is a terrible thing, big guy," Nick shot back to his petite partner-in-crime. "I think you need to spend more time with Cherry. She'll help you through your issues." Preferably that Napoleon Complex of his.

Needless to say, that verbal barb got the tiny fennec seeing red. "Hey! You leave my girlfriend out of this, okay?" The smaller fox grumbled irritably. "I don't pester you over your love life–or lack thereof–do I?" Finnick shot back, going for an equally low blow.

Seeing where this was going, the honey badger was quick to stand up from her seat. "Now, now boys," she spoke up in a kind yet firm tone in an attempt to diffuse the situation before it got worse. "There will be no fighting at the dinner table. Even if the food's gone, fighting just means you'll have an upset stomach later." Honey smiled at them, getting both men to look away uncomfortably. "Now then, how about we clean up?"

Nick sighed. Leave it to Honey to be able to hit him in one of the few ways that still mattered to the fox; with a familial and motherly attitude. "Right, right..." he murmured as he lifted up the edges of the disposable table cover, turning it into a make-shift garbage bag. "I'll bring this upstairs and can it, all right?" However, as the vulpine attempted to do such, he was surprised to find it lifted higher when Carmelita took hold as well.

"I can handle it," the female fox said in a kind tone. "I did mean it when I said this was my treat. You three just enjoy yourselves. I'll be right back," she explained as she threw the sack over her shoulder as if she were some sort of Santa Claws. Turning away from the trio, the woman then began to carefully make her way up the ladder once more.

From where he was standing, Nick couldn't help but look up as he watched the vixen leave, his emerald eyes drawn to the sway of those lovely hips as the female red fox climbed each step.

Noticing where the man's eyes were gazing off to, Honey couldn't help but smile knowingly. "My, my... I think my little Nicky is growing up. Falling head-over-heels for a lovely lady... and a policewoman no less; an officer of the law," she cooed with a teasing tone. 

His pupils dilating into pin-pricks, the red fox blushed deeply enough that it managed to show up through his crimson facial fur. Doing his best to fight down the effects the woman's gentle teasing had on him, it took a few moments before the vulpine was able to look back at Honey. "Well, can you blame me?" He asked in exasperation. "I mean, look at her! She's gorgeous, foreign, and doesn't seem to care much with how Zootopia is right now!"

"Doesn't care much _about_ or much _for_?" Honey asked curiously. "Because those are two **very** different things, Nick." Her tone was one of warning but not outright chiding. "I know things haven't been easy for you. They haven't been easy for any of us. It's why I like her as a _person_ ; Officer Fox a breath of fresh air."

Nodding his head idly, the male vulpine idly replied, "Ain't she though?"

Rolling his eyes, Finnick snorted. "And she's a cop too. Yep! Smart idea to chase after that one," the desert fox praised his partner sarcastically. "Now let's see how long it takes her to discover your main way of making money, Wilde. She might slap the cuffs on you in ways that **DON'T** indicate bedroom fun."

"Which is why..." the vulpine conman said slowly, suppressing his grin as he knew this was going to throw his little buddy for a loop. "I'm going to try and make a more honest buck through Carmelita while she's here."

His head tilting to his right, the desert fox could only stare at his quirky compatriot as he intelligently queried, "Huh?"

Seeing that the fennec had no idea what he was getting at made Nick smile a tad more deviously than before. "I might or might not have happened to take a look through her wallet while I was in the back of your van fixing her luggage," the male red fox admitted without admitting in a nonchalant manner. "And I may or may not have seen that our dear Inspector had a few hundred dollars for on-hand use... as well as a white envelope filled with eight grand **cash**."

That statement made the older woman frown quite a bit. "Really, Nick! You're not thinking of running a scam through her, are you?" Honey sighed tiredly. She knew the boy was always looking out for a way to make a quick buck, but honestly! That Carmelita gal seemed so nice, even if she was a cop. Plus if he tried to pull the–the badger shuddered – _ **wool**_ over her head, the officer might take it personally and toss him in the slammer without hope of parole!

"Now I wouldn't call it a _scam_ , per se," the fox tried to explain. "Like I said before, I would be making an **hones** t buck through her. I would offer Finnick's and my services near exclusive to her while she's staying in Zootopia. I'm certain a woman like her could use a set of handymen, chauffers, and personal shoppers while she's here. Not only would it be a good source of cash, but the chance to build some good will with the authorities would be nice too."

Finnick snorted at his partner's reasoning for trying to cozy up to a police officer. "I thought that's what Clawhauser was for?" Granted, the vixen had the better rack but she also seemed far more serious too! He wouldn't put it pass her to throw Wilde in the slammer!

Rolling his eyes, Nick firmly replied, "Please! He hasn't been a beat cop for years! He's practically a glorified secretary as their main front desk attendant. At **most** he still does dispatch, but that's all. Sit on his butt and handle radio traffic." Yes, even with as friendly as he was, Clawhauser was less than helpful when it came to the vulpine's needs.

Sitting back in her seat, the experience doomsday prepper considered the fox's take on all this. Finally, she nodded her head. "Not a bad idea," Honey admitted. "Just make sure to pitch it right or you will end up behind bars... and I am not posting bail!" That would require her to leave her hole in the ground and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

 **Anyone**.

Raising a hand and waving off the woman's warning, the crimson canid nodded his head. "Of course, Honey!" The conman smiled, clicking his teeth and winking as he gave the woman two thumbs-up. "Trust me. When have I ever been wrong?"

The burly woman gave the mammal she helped raise a flat look and began to open her mouth.

"Don't answer that," the male red fox quickly interrupted. "It was a rhetorical question."

However, almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the familiar voice of the Inspector came from above. "What was rhetorical?" The vixen queried as she carefully made her way down the steps of the ladder once more, the woman unknowingly giving the red fox a bit of a wonderful view that once again made the vulpine conman happy to be alive.

"Oh, I was just asking Honey if I had ever been wrong." Nick put his hand on his chest as he grinned at Carmelita. "I mean, sure! I thought I was once but then it turned out I was right the whole time. People can't pull one over on _this_ sly fox!"

Letting off an exasperated groan, the fennec slumped at the table. "Oh, come on, Wilde! Are you _STILL_ angry about the pie? I swear, I thought it was mine!"

"Who said anything about the blueberry pie that I was saving for a rainy day?" Nick asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Getting off the ladder and her feet planted firmly back on the ground, the female vulpine raised one of her navy blue eyebrow as she stared down at Finnick in curiosity. "Pie? You ate something of Nick's?"

Before the small desert fox could answer that, the taller male vulpine interrupted. "Well that we were Carmelita, but that's not all that important in the grand scheme of thing!" The pawpsicle hustler said with an energetic voice while he had a wide smile adorning his face. "In fact, what we _should_ be talking about however is **you** , my dear Officer Fox."

That statement made the policewoman blink her brown eyes in surprise. "Me?" She chirruped incredulously, staring at her fellow red fox in confusion. "What about me?" She asked as she stepped back from the group, keeping close to the ladder. "Did I do something wrong?"

Realizing the woman was starting to become defensive, the male fox brought his hands up in a placating manner. Watching as Carmelita stopped sliding towards the exit, Nick calmly told her, "Oh no worries! It's nothing like that, Carm. I was just wondering if you perhaps needed another set of eyes watching your back while you live here?" He offered helpfully.

Raising one of her navy blue eyebrows, the vixen calmly queried, "What do you mean, Mr. Wilde?" He had been helpful so far, so the least she could do was hear him out.

A grin tugging back across his muzzle, the red fox happily asked, "How would you feel about your own set of on-call lackeys-for-hire?" He wagged his eyebrows meaningfully at her.

That made the policewoman twitch. _Oh he_ _ **really**_ _sounds like Sly now_ , the vixen thought in annoyance as she gave him a bit of a sour look. "Look! I'm not some corrupt cop, crime boss, or petty thug who's going to go looking for people to beat up on with a night stick just because I have some authority. I don't need, 'lackeys'."

Nick blinked a few times before realizing how the woman took that. Quickly shaking his head and waving his arms in a warding fashion, the male vulpine cried out, "Sorry! That came out wrong!" He shouted before rapidly going on to explain, "What I mean is, you're still new here, and you probably don't know all the good places to go shopping! To get food, groceries, entertainment, or places to go to unwind, etcetera, etcetera!" Seeing the woman begin to calm down, the hustler continued, "What I'm saying is Finnick and I could offer ourselves as your baggage holders, personal drivers, errand boys..." he shrugged his shoulders. "You know, all around lackeys that get stuff done for you while you're at work and what not."

The woman blinked her chocolate eyes at that, considering his words more carefully now that she realized he meant such in a more lawful sense. Nodding her head after a second of internal debate, the female red fox inquired, "How much an hour?"

Needless to say, such a response caught the purveyor of knockoff pawpsicles by surprise. "Wuh-what? Just like that?" Nick blinked his own emerald eyes in shock. He was certain he would have to have done more to convince her of this. The Interpol Inspector seemed to have been the stubborn type from their first impressions but he certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth–they tended to bite.

The woman merely shrugged in response before moving towards the table once more. Settling back in the one unoccupied seat, she explained, "It's as you said. I could use some people to do stuff for me while I'm at work and what not." She took a deep breath and admitted, "Plus it wouldn't be a bad thing to know that if I need clothes or groceries I could just make a call and have it done before work was over." Seeing she still had the rapt attention of those gathered at the table, the vixen continued all seriousness, "I do need to get out there myself eventually, but it would be nice to have someone show me around and point out the places I could go where I wouldn't have to worry about getting tar-and-feathered before being a fox."

The sad part was Carmelita wasn't joking about that last aspect. Zootopia had proven to be less than kind so far, and the less harassment she had to deal with, the **better**!

Tilting his head to get a better look at the vixen, Nick offered her a small, sympathetic little smile, understanding what she meant all _too_ well. "I can bring you to a lot of places, actually. I am the go-to-mammal for this sort of things. I know everyone. And I mean **everyone**. And if I don't know them personally then you can bet I know who they are and can give you the inside scoop. Plus," he puffed up a bit with pride. "I know this city like the back of my paw! Every little nook, cranny, and unknown spot is my secret hidey-hole. Anything you want taken care of will get done, one way or the other!"

The prideful boating made the Hispanic fox blink her eyes a few times in surprise when the vulpine finished his literal sales pitch. _**REALLY**_ _sounds like Sly_ , she thought as she crossed her arms over her breasts, making a show of considering his offer once more. Finally, she nodded her head and firmly told her fellow red fox, "It's as I said, this sounds like what I need. Just promise me you **won't** cause trouble if you're doing something for me or in my name, all right?"

Straightening up in his seat, Wilde smiled wider, displaying his sparkling white teeth as he saluted the policewoman. "You have my word: Junior Ranger Scouts' Honor."

Before she could speak, the vixen was taken aback as a sudden orange twinkle appeared within the field of her vision, her Inspector's Intuition honing in on Honey's face. She couldn't help but notice the female mustelidae's expression was a rather sad one as Nick said that. The Latina beauty definitely needed to inquire about that later. Still, Mr. Wilde hadn't done her wrong so far, and it would be nice to have a friend she could depend on, even if he was doing it for the cash. _Not like this wouldn't be the first time I hired out mercenarie_ s, she thought before extending her hand out to him. "So we good?"

A grin was plastered over the male vulpine's muzzle. "Yes, I believe so. We just need to agree on how much Finnick and I should get paid for this and we'll be all set."

His eyes wide with shocks, the poor fennec couldn't believe what his oversized ears were hearing. He just couldn't believe he was going to be working for a cop! Granted, she was sexy as hell and he wondered just what her measurements were, but still! **She was a cop!**

...

…A cop who would be paying them to do legitimate and legal legwork and they wouldn't have to worry about being arrested for it... "Dang it," the little guy growled under his breath. This was infuriating. She was a cop, and the idea of working for one repulsed him. But this was a good business opportunity. Especially since he might make more money than their current business model was allowing for them.

Carmelita mulled over it, considered what would be fair. Finally, she answered the male vulpine with a question of her own, "What would you say your daily take for pawpsicles is?"

"Two hundred bucks a day, seven days a week, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year," Nick replied. "I know. I might not look like it, but I have a very strong work ethic." He wagged her eyebrows at her. "You'd be surprised the lengths I'd go to, to make a buck..." he told her as he winked rather suggestively, teasing the woman.

Rolling her eyes at the blunt attempt at flirting from her fellow vulpine, the woman thought over what he told her. "Hmm... two-hundred dollars a day... if that's over the course of eight hour days... then..." the policewoman did a little mental math. "How does twenty-five bucks an hour each sound?"

"Make it forty, and we have a deal," the vulpine replied in all seriousness. "Need to keep gas in mind..." he tried to use as a selling point to hustle a bit more out of the woman.

The woman stared at him with a curious expression. She could understand them wanting the best payout for their effort but she wanted the biggest bang for her buck just as well! "Thirty dollars an hour," Carmelita countered. "I know how tight certain residents of Sahara Square are with the city. You've got the cheapest gas rates in the world outside of Saddle Arabia itself here in Zootopia."

The male vulpine pursed his lips for a moment. Darn. Looked like the officer was a bit more knowledgeable about the city than he thought she would be. "How about you pay my pal and I thirty-five an hour?"

"Hmm..." the policewoman considered that. That was a fair offer but still a bit higher than she felt comfortable with doling out. "How about thirty an hour and if the errand you're running is chauffeuring me, I'll buy you both lunch."

Blinking his bright green eyes, the red fox considered that. "Fair enough," Nick agreed as he held out his paw for her to shake.

Looking down at it for a moment, the vixen nodded her head. "All right... but first we should probably write this up." Carmelita held up her hand, palm towards the man to stop any protests. "Trust me. Even my family's religion states, 'get a contract, even when dealing with others in the flock, for disputes can arise' so to avoid any issues..."

Raising his hand, the canid male opened his mouth in an attempt to argue... only for no words to come out. His trap clapping shut, the mammal lowered his hand and sighed with obvious disappointment. "Fair enough," Nick muttered softly in agreement. Taking a deep breath, the vulpine looked about the bunker. "So... anyone got any paper we can write up a contract with?"

"Hold on," Honey replied as she walked up to the wall and pulled down one of her many, **many** sheep-related diagrams. Making her way back over to the table, she offered the paper to the younger woman. "Will this do?"

Accepting the paper covered with a number of sheep that looked like Area 51 aliens from the old X-Files show, Carmelita flipped it over and saw that, yes, the back WAS blank. "It's an odd piece to be sure, but it'll do..." she murmured as she began to write up guidelines on it, taking both Nick and Finnick's desires into account, before the trio of foxes–and even the badger–put their signatures on it.

As Carmelita and Nick's paws came together in a handshake, it would be the start of a partnership that would end up shaking the very core of Zootopia.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Sugar. Oh, Honey, Honey... you are my candy girl, and you got me wanting you.

Yep. We've finally gotten to Nick and Carmelita meeting outright as well as introducing Honey. I apologize for the length of this episode. It may be a bit imposing but I knew what I wanted to put into it... it just kept growing considerably.

Some might have noticed I mentioned Clawhauser here having ties to Nick, well that comes from a holdover of the original script and movie outline. While Clawhauser and Nick never got to interact in the movie, one of the original sets of scripts and storyboards had Nick, Finnick, and Benjamin all meet up as teenagers working at Chez Cheez in Little Rodentia and becoming fast friends from there. Who's to say the big ol' cheetah policeman still can't be buddies with the two little vulpine hustlers?

Also, yes, the Chinese Restaurant is a nod to Rumiko Takahashi's Ranma ½. Like last time, Nanya wanted me to break up all the seriousness with something a bit more light-hearted. Can't say I blame him, but things should be getting better for Carmelita... SHOULD be... at least for a little while.

A heads up to my readers! With the upcoming holiday, I have a lot of gardening and landscaping in my immediate future and won't have time to get the next chapter ready for next Saturday. That's why this chapter was longer than the previous, as will the following one on July 16th. Happy Holidays, my readers! Stay tuned!


	6. Precinct to the Choir

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 6: Precinct to the Choir

Sitting behind the controls of the police helicopter, the navy blue-tressed Interpol officer was cursing up a storm, the female red fox doing her best to get all three sets of control in sync: the cyclic to keep the frame of the copter steady, the collective to slowly decrease the power to safely climb down in get altitude, and anti-torque pedals to make sure the tail rotor was keeping a balance between the other two forces. The simultaneous control scheme for a helicopter was a constant balancing act and the reason why, despite her better judgment, the vulpine had brought Sly on as a tail-gunner in the first place. She was too busy not only keeping the copter airborne but _maneuverable_ as well to also shoot down that nefarious bastardization of science and sorcery. The living crime against animality: Clock-La.

The vixen gritted her teeth as she felt her anger rise. Clock-La, the result that came about when the traitorous Captain Neyla and the Clockwerk frame merged together. The treacherous tigress had willingly shed her mortal body to become a weapon of mass destruction. A weapon that was capable of firing guided missiles and energy rings, not to mention the high-powered energy blasts that had managed to severely damage her helicopter! It was bad enough trying and keep a compromised aircraft aloft but then Sly jumped ship to go free-falling amongst the wreckage of the late Arpeggio's air-fortress in an effort to save his friends from the crazed cybernetic creation while leaving her unable to assist! She would have ended up crashing too if she didn't focus on her own problems with the copter!

"Damn it, Ringtail," Carmelita hissed under her breath as she could see the plastic dials of the dashboard gauges swinging back and forth wildly. At the very least she'd been able to keep the odometers from spinning wildly as she maintained stable flight and descent. Now all that was left was to make her way back to the ground and find out how the raccoon's death-defying skydive after the robot owl turned out... one way or the other.

It took a bit of work to get the police aircraft to stay on target but eventually the helicopter safely decreased in altitude. Eventually, when it descended enough to where the Interpol agent could scope out the city, the Latina vulpine's eyes widened in shock and her heart leapt into her chest. A considerable portion of Paris' historic section was on **fire**. Large pieces of the aerial fortress–while mostly contained to a centralized area–were strewn all about the city, the scattered remains leaving mass destruction in their wake from where they bombarded historical buildings of grandiose handcrafted architecture and filled the Seine River with its waste; burning trees and rooftops, broken windows, downed signs, fallen telephone poles, and sparking power lines were common sights to behold among all the carnage. Large twisted chunks of steel, melted portions of plastic, broken and burning segments of lumber, shredded pieces of tarp that wafted on the wind after getting caught one something else, large cracked shards of reinforced glass, numerous torn chunks of electronics, crates of illegal spices, and all sorts of paraphernalia that went into creating and maintaining Arpeggio's airborne Hate Machine left an utter mess of devastation that could scar the city for years to come.

As further elevation was lost and she got even closer to the disaster, Carmelita would have sworn her jaw was going to disconnect from her skull by how harshly she felt it drop. While there was so much burning wreckage both in the streets and floating on the water, the majority of what lay in the river was the remains of Clock-La! Bent wing frames pierced into the riverbed and were pointing straight up as if trying desperately to take flight. Broken talons bobbed with digits clenching and unclenching as if they were still angrily grasping for a Cooper. A mechanical heart maintained a slow beat as it floated on the river atop a piece of the air-ship's hull. A mechanical set of lungs were proving to hold great buoyancy as they floated in the water. Even the head of the fearsome avian automaton was still visible, floating on its side as it bobbed along the surface of the Seine River, the hateful light in its eyes having finally gone out for good.

But more importantly, standing on the concrete riverbank that came down from the streets and onto the water for boaters to use as a pier was a trio of familiar colors: blue, purplish-pink, and green. Carmelita let off a sigh of relief at realizing the Cooper Gang had seen it through and made it out alive. They had managed to defeat Clock-La! They were heroes!

And yet, the canid cop had no joy in her heart as she knew what was coming for them. Even if Carmelita was still on the outs with Interpol, she was a woman of the law and nothing would change that. She felt a twinge of guilt at what she was going to have to do but the group needed to pay for their crimes. Even if their reasoning was valid this time around, they were still thieves! Justice had to be blind for this very reason and she could only hope for their sakes that what the trio had done this night would at least earn them some leniency in a court of law.

Her chocolate gaze scanning about, the woman realized she had something of an ideal landing spot. The sheer air-pressure from the impact had managed to push back if not uprooted a lot of street fixtures and parked vehicles that normally filled the roads. It would be a pain for the city and insurance companies but at the moment it left the policewoman a very large and open area to bring the copter down in. The Hispanic red fox kept easing back on the collective, decreasing elevation until finally, the helicopter's struts touched down in the center of a street intersection. Cutting the engine, the Interpol officer didn't wait for the propellers to finish rotating before she pushed open the side door on her left and jumped out.

The policewoman only managed a few steps before the her charge towards the group came to a sudden stop upon getting a good look at the state they were in. There was Murray, the rotund and muscular hippopotamus who served as both the Cooper gang's muscle and getaway driver. He was decked out in his maroon mask and driving goggles which clashed with his stained and torn aquamarine t-shirt and a light blue scarf that was frayed along the edges, as if threatening to unravel much like the aquatic herbivore was. He was absolutely filthy, the man covered in so much grease and oil, and a little bit of red that was seeping from harsh scraps and outright lacerations. Carmelita thought Murray to be a rather tough–albeit naïve–individual and didn't think him the sort to get all weepy over a few bumps and bruises. Yet the large herbivore's cracked goggled were completely blurred from the tears he filled them with.

However, it was what she saw resting in his tasseled maroon gloved hands that answered the woman's internal inquiry for why the hippo wept openly. There was the turtle Bentley, his bulletproof vest haggard and scratched up, barely hanging on by a literal thread, same as his pith helmet. The aquatic reptile's limbs hung limply at his sides and over the edges of the much larger mammal's meaty mitts, his breathing shallow and pained. While it was obvious the man was hurting, what really stood out to the policewoman's Inspector's Intuition was the central crack in the back of the master planner's shell, a nasty break that went straight across the center. Murray's fingers gripped tightly into the hardened surface of the smaller animal's protective shell, holding it together as tightly as he could, trying to keep the broken backside of his pal together... even though in the case of the gang's strategist, it was obvious the poor bespectacled reptile was going to end up paraplegic from then on due to a turtle's spine being part of the shell.

And finally, her visage settled on the leader of the group: Sly Cooper. There he was, clad in a familiar blue and bright yellow collared shirt, albeit with elbow-length sleeves; the garment held in place by a belt just as brightly colored as his collar with a custom buckle shaped like that of the Cooper symbol. The attire was topped off with a pair of worn blue boots that replaced his old black ones, blue gloves with yellow cuffs, and that practically trademarked blue cap of his. The old backpack he stored his loot in had also been traded in for a stylized leg pouch, one just as red as the man's former back adornment had once been.

Carmelita watched as the ring-tailed thief turned about to see her and it took every ounce of the vulpine's will to fight down the blush of arousal she could feel wanting to flush through her face. Sly had been helping her considerably the past few months stay out of the reach of Interpol after she had been framed by that backstabbing bitch Neyla but she didn't really do anything with him outside of accepting his aide to flee the scene when there was no other alternative. This was the first chance she got to really look at the raccoon since they met at Rajan's party back in India... and now she understood why she hadn't recognized him then without his mask. It had been four years since she first started chasing the master thief; a year chasing him down while he searched for his father's murderers and the pages of his family book, two years hounding him while he was mastering his craft, and then the past year trying to keep up with the thief while he hunted down the Klaw gang and the damnable Clockwerk parts they stole.

Four years of hard work was a long time. When she first started on the Cooper case after meeting him while protecting Madame Pachyderma Tuskaninny's treasured necklace of the Diva Diamond at the Parisian Opera House, the Interpol officer knew the then barely eighteen-year-old to be a bit of a string bean; lithe and agile. A boy pretending he understood the concepts and legal responsibilities being the age of majority meant. Now, at twenty-two, Sly had filled out considerably. Gone was the lankiness, replaced by the increased upper body strength of broader shoulders and slightly thicker arms. He was still lithe but the thief's body had become nicely toned, giving him an incredibly athletic build. His once softly rounded face with its deceptively boyish innocence had become more angular... manlier. Shoot, he'd even grown considerably in height! Where before the officer stood a literal head taller than the then-teenager, the suave raccoon was now taller than the vixen by a couple of inches! At least in the physical sense, Sly Cooper had become a man.

Yet, even with the change in attire and build, Sly was looking far worse for wear, the mammal covered with injuries and filth much like Murray was. His shirt had a large hole in the hemline and the left sleeve had almost fallen off completely; the arm covering coming off at the seam where it connected with the torso. His face looked more like a road map than his usual smiling visage–scratches all over his the upper left portion of his muzzle, across his right cheek and he was going to need a whole mess of stitches for his left ear. It was a good thing Sly had worn that black mask of his because it took the majority of the damage and protected a good deal of raccoon's handsome face and more importantly his eyes. And even more damning as to how bad a condition he was, the Ringtail's right hand maintained a death grip on his hooked staff; the Cooper cane he was so proud of was the only thing giving the raccoon any stability to remain standing. The item used to help him commit so many crimes was finally being used for its proper intended purpose: support.

Although he was pained, the raccoon managed to offer his favorite vixen a small, wan smile. Inspector Fox could see the pain behind both the curl of his lips and the tiredness of his eyes but the fact he still welcomed her so warmly said **volumes** about his character. "Hey, Carmelita..." he greeted her, fatigue apparent in his voice. "Thanks for joining the party. Sorry to tell you this, but you're a bit too late to get a few shots in on Clock-La." He told her with a tone of voice that was genuinely apologetic as well as sympathetic. He understood how much the female red fox had wanted to aid them in taking the monster down for good.

Turning her head left and right, the vulpine woman surveyed the carnage that had befallen the streets and waters of Paris. "I can see that..." she said as she carefully walked up to the nocturnal perpetrator, the woman's brown eyes drawn to the piece of machinery in his left hand that looked reminiscent to a computer's motherboard... albeit one that was almost _**alien**_ in its design. Ports on either side to connect out to something–anything, really as if it were meant to grab onto even organic tissue–while two lensed segments glowed with an eerie yellow light, as if in mimic of the avian android's optic sensors.

The smile immediately left the master thief's face, leaving only an expression of regret. "This is the Hate Chip," he began to explain softly. "Bentley... he removed it to finally shut that damn bird down and... paid a great price..." he whispered in a hoarse voice, as if saying that aloud pained him more than anything else ever could. He trembled in place, dropping the piece of machinery on the ground, needing both hands to grasp onto his cane to remain upright.

Seeing him like that, the canid policewoman wanted to run to Sly, to offer him a helping hand... but she realized that even with all the physical pain the man was going through, it was the emotional kind that was doing him in. With that understanding at the forefront of her mind, the Latina vixen wanted nothing more than to hug him tight, to let him cry out his pain against her and tell him that everything would be all right! But the woman couldn't... no, she wouldn't lie to the man she cared about like that.

Yes, she could admit she cared about him to a degree. It's why seeing Sly in such a state absolutely tore the woman apart inside. However, as much as she hated not giving him the comfort he needed, Carmelita had to keep this professional: he was a crook and she an officer of the law. It wouldn't work out. _But that doesn't mean I can't do anything for him_ , she thought firmly as she gazed down at the fallen piece of technology that lay amongst the concrete of the pier. Without a second thought, she brought her right foot down on it as hard as she could. The navy blue-haired vulpine had to put all her anger at what happened and sympathy for Sly and his gang into it, but it was enough to empower her strength of body and will to allow the thick sole of her boot to smash the damnable machinery it to pieces–hard enough that little shards of metal went flying and scattering across the ground and into the water.

And just like that, an amazing thing happened. With a noise that sounded like a trio of unearthly voices wailing out in rage and terror all at once, the Hate Chip dissipated into nothingness. When the screams stopped, the parts of the wreckage that were from Clockwerk's body began to age and deteriorate right before the eyes of those gathered. Oxidization began working at top speeds as metal withered and collapsed in on itself as it rusted from the inside-out! The numerous pieces of the atrocious avian became warped and blackened so harshly from the rapid redox reaction that it caused pitch-black smoke to rise from the mish-mash of mechanics as if they were on fire! It was an amazing sight to watch as time caught up with the ancient bird. It was more destruction to be certain, but there was almost a catharsis to be had from watching it happen. It was over. Clockwerk would never threaten anyone ever again.

Sly turned from Carmelita as he looked on at the spectacle in amazement. "You... you did it..." he whispered in both shock and awe, his brown eyes wide as he drank in the sight of the pieces of his family's greatest nemesis slowly but certainly grumbling into particles of ebony ash. "How ironic..." he murmured, still dumbstruck by what he was witnessing. "You, Carmelita... a police officer... would be the one to lift the curse from the Cooper family. The menace of Clockwerk will never again rise to threaten me... or my future children."

It was those words of awe, relief, and genuine praise that made Carmelita feel incredibly _guilty_ about what she had to do next. Still, she had to: this was possibly her last chance to clear her name with the authorities! So bracing her nerves and steeling her heart, the vixen brought her shock pistol up to the fore and proclaimed, "Sly Cooper! You and your gang are all under arrest!" The woman gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes as she did so. She knew such was probably a fearsome expression, but intimidation wasn't the factor here. The vixen was trying to hold it together, lest she burst into tears. With all the crimes Sly and his gang committed over the years, the canid cop had to hold her ground and bring them in, even as part of her was screaming to just let them run, that this **wasn't fair**! _**To any of them!**_

The vixen watched as Sly's jaw moved up and down wordlessly in shock, the man completely taken aback by the fact that, yes, she was a woman of her word and had every intention of taking them all in. Even as the Hispanic fox held her weapon aloft, she watched as the raccoon's eyes darted about, searching for a quick exit, for options, his friends, anything! And yet... he seemed to ease up as he took a look at his friends once more. She had gotten a good look at them first and she was certain now Sly could see they were in no shape for a fast getaway.

She had them dead to rights.

The Cooper cane fell from the raccoon's now nerveless fingers, clattering against the concrete of the riverbank. His shoulders sagging for a moment, the thief sighed heavily before he slowly straightened back up and raised his hands aloft in surrender. "Carmelita..." he said the woman's name softly. "Please. We know this is about me... about _us_. So please, **please** let me cut deal..." he then lowered his arms, holding his hands out and close together before her, as if offering for her to put the cuffs on him. "I'll go peacefully in exchange for letting my friends walk... is that all right?" He looked up at her, his eyes practically pleading to appeal to her better nature.

Even as she kept her pistol at the ready, the vixen's own chocolate gaze looked back and forth between the raccoon and his teammates. Even she had to admit that the turtle needed medical attention ASAP and police protocol might not be fast enough to process Bentley and get him on his way to a hospital. She wanted to stop the Cooper gang but she didn't want anyone to _die_. So taking a deep breath akin to how the Master Thief had done, the woman nodded her head in acceptance. "Fine..." she answered as she holstered her pistol. "But they better make it quick," she warned as she withdrew a set of handcuffs and began closing it around one of the perp's wrists. "I can already hear sirens in the distance. The police will be here any moment!"

A small smile curled across Sly's muzzle, the scratches on it bleeding slightly as his facial expression tugged the wound open. He ignored the pain, just relieved that the woman accepted his proposal. He looked towards the retreating form of his friends for a moment before the raccoon returned his attention to the lovely Latina that was taking him into custody. "Thank you..." he told the Inperpol officer in all seriousness even as she secured his hands behind his back. "I mean it, Carm. Thank you."

Despite herself, the woman managed to smile slightly... knowing it might be her last chance to offer him some form of comfort. "I understand..." she told him as the sirens got even closer...

 ***Eeeooo~eeeooo*!**

 ***Eeeooo~eeeooo*!**

 ***Eeeooo~eeeooo*!**

 ***Eeeooo~eeeooo*!**

 ***Eee~iiiiing*!**

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

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 ***Ri~~iiiiing*!**

Carmelita's eyes snapped wide open, the ringtone of her cell phone's alarm exploding in her ears, forcing the vixen awake. She grumbled a bit as she shook her head, trying to throw off the sensations of fatigue and confusion, all while the loud ringing of her cellular device beckoned the woman to answer it. She blinked her eyes a couple of times, trying to make them adjust to sunlight that peeked around the slats of the window's blinders that blocked the full illumination of the morning sun. "Where's... my phone?" She murmured, her throat feeling very dry. Likely due to all the salt that was in last night's Chinese dinner.

 ***Ri~~iiiiing*!**

"Yeah, yeah! I'm coming!" She growled out, even though her brain slowly reminded her that wasn't how phones worked. Groaning in exasperation, the woman rolled over on the bed she was using before her left hand came atop the nightstand that was to the right of the bed. Feeling around atop the piece of furniture, the Hispanic woman's hand grasped around before finally taking hold of the cell phone. She brought it to her, pulling the charger's plug out of the phone's socket as she did and causing the small chord to fall to the floor. Swiping her finger over the front of the screen, the woman brought it to the side of her head and let out a tired, "Hello?"

" _CARMELITA!_ " The familiar voice of her boss, Commissioner-in-Chief James Barkley snapped over the phone, shocking the red fox into an alert state. " _WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?_ "

The woman blinked her eyes rapidly at that, her mind starting to speed up to catch what the man was saying. "Que?" She queried in confusion as she slowly sat up in bed despite the protests of her body, the comforter falling off to reveal the vixen slept in her undergarments. "What do you mean, 'where the hell' am I? I'm here in Zootopia! You know, that place you **guilt-tripped** me into flying to for this stupid publicity stunt! Where else _**would**_ I be!?" She didn't mean to snap at the badger but to have him start screaming at her clear out of the blue first-thing was enough to trigger her self-defense response of getting just as loud!

The badger's voice was silent for a moment. Finally though, the vixen's boss continued to speak, albeit much calmer this time. " _Sorry, sorry... I was a bit worried_ ," he admitted apologetically. " _The ZPD called me last night and this morning to inform me that their contact failed to pick you up at the airport and that you still hadn't checked into your condo or with the station. Everyone was getting a little worried something might have happened to you_." He paused for a moment before firmly adding, " _Including me!_ "

That statement made Carmelita blink her eyes in shock. "I was supposed to get a ride?" She asked as she turned about in bed, pulling her legs out from underneath the blankets and tossing them over the side of the mattress, her feet barely making contact with the floor. The Hispanic vulpine cringed as she could feel a dull throb spread throughout her body–likely the aftershocks from both being Tasered and launched into a massive pile of wood, canvas, and aluminum yesterday from a blow upside the head. "I sure as hell didn't see any police escorts, let alone someone holding a sign with my name." Ironically though, she **did** meet a limo driver.

" _Yes, they were_ ," James replied. " _It's like I said, their contact failed. There were traffic issues. Even with their sirens the police car had to deal with road congestion that was bumper-to-bumper. By the time your ZPD contact made it to the airport, your flight had already arrived and departed for more than an hour. He missed you completely_."

The vixen rolled her brown eyes, groaning in aggravation. "Well I wish someone had at least told me to _**expect**_ a ride. I would have gladly traded a long afternoon of sitting on my ass in an airport lobby over the warm welcoming the animals here gave me!" Although admittedly, the policewoman met a few rather nice mammals, particularly her fellow foxes, she could have done **without** the humiliation of having her tail handed to her by a little rabbit.

The woman's cell phone went silent for a long time in response to that. Finally, in an eerily calm voice, the badger queried, " _What happened?_ "

"More like what didn't happen?" Carmelita snorted in annoyance. "I took the shuttle bus to Bunnyburrow. It's a dependent province of Zootopia, much like Deerbrook County. Except they have that famous Zootopia Express monorail and I figured it would shave time off my trip to the city. I should have known I was in for a rough journey when I had all kinds of prey staring at me on the bus as if I were part of a reenactment of Rosa Barks..." she trailed off, gritting her teeth, the action causing the right side of her face to pulse with pain. "To the point: while I met a couple of nice people at the little countryside town willing to give me a hand, I otherwise got my ass kicked harder by the locals than I have on some of my more dangerous missions."

Again, silence continued to fall over the Interpol agent's phone before her boss asked, " _You got your tail handed to you... by rabbits?_ " He chirruped incredulously, the confusion and disbelief apparent in his tone. " _You, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox, who has successfully handled some of the strongest, most physically imposing criminals on record... got beat up by_ _ **bunnies**_ _?_ " It was obvious the mustached mustelidae was having real trouble trying to comprehend what his subordinate was telling him.

"Small-minded, specist bunnies with Tasers and know how to use the strongest muscles in their bodies to curb stomp a person," the female red fox spat out bitterly. "Bunnies who attacked before, as you said yourself, I had a chance to register with the local police and without full jurisdiction, it would have been next-to-worthless to try and administer warrants or arrests..."

Again, silence followed. " _I suppose..._ " Barkley softly murmured. " _But, seriously... rabbits?_ "

The vulpine frowned a bit at the disbelief her superior had over the event so decided that perhaps a bit of fact-sharing was in order. After all, with how often her boss spouted off the wisdom of Winston Churchill, he would appreciate a bit of political history. "I did a little bit of reading recently. Did you hear about the clumsy bear who was President of the United States?"

There was a pause on the other end as the badger considered that. " _You mean former President Gerald Ford? What about him?_ "

"The same," Carmelita replied as she shimmied back and forth where she sat, trying to loosen up the stiffness in her spine. "One time he went fishing and got attacked by some wild rabbit who swam across the river, jumped in his boat, and drop-kicked him into the lake."

Silence reigned for a moment before the man on the other end of the line could gather his wits. " _Where on earth did you read about_ _ **that**_ _?_ " James' voice was full of obvious confusion.

"Supplemental materials a friend of mine sent me after I texted him last night about what occurred," the vixen said in all seriousness. "I suppose it was his attempt at cheering me up over what happened but he's always been a bit socially awkward." Not for lack of trying though, Bentley really did his best to get over his social ineptitude. For someone who was so intelligent, he still had a ways to go on his social graces.

The phone was quiet again but this time for merely a moment. " _So... you'll tell your friends you safely arrived but not the people you're supposed to be working with?_ " The annoyance that was now lacing the badger's voice was clear as day.

Pushing herself out from the bed to stand up, the Latina woman winced as she felt pain continue to pulse, every muscle in her body protesting her decision to leave the comfort of the four-post bed the Interpol agent had been allowed to use. "Well, yeah. Because my friends care for me," she said pointedly. "Just as _you_ care for _your_ friends... which is why you called up first thing to **chew me out,** _ **right**_?" She could already feel the heat starting to rise in her voice and it was taking all her power to keep from snapping at her boss again.

The vixen could hear the sounds of her boss mulling it over, a soft 'hmm' making its way over the line before he began to speak up once more. " _I'm sensing that something else happened. Even if you got lost, you should have made it to your condo..._ "

Carmelita growled before speaking again, talking to her superior in a very... _sweet_... tone of voice. "Tell you what! Why don't you call the condo up yourself and ask them if someone matching my description showed up yesterday to check in and then ask what happened, okay?" She was pretty certain her cell was picking up the sound of her teeth grinding together.

The sound of James exhaling in exasperation could be heard as he breathed heavily into the phone. " _It would be easier to just tell me..._ " he told her. " _And I'm not going to like this, am I?_ " Never let it be said the Commission-in-Chief of the Paris Branch of Interpol was naïve.

"The outright discrimination I got walking through Zootopia was bad enough–particularly this one guy who _TRIED_ to turn me into **street pizza** when I had the crosswalk lights in my favor–but when I got there, the asshole threw me out!" Carmelita snapped. "He didn't believe who I was because I'm a _**FOX**_!" She yelled into her cell phone. "Oh, but it wasn't enough to have the big rhino he keeps around as condo security throw me out, goodness no! They threw my luggage into the street where it _DID_ get hit by a car!" She snapped irritably.

The groan that came over the line was quite audible. " _God almighty..._ " the voice cursed over the phone. " _Carmelita, I'm_ _ **terribly**_ _sorry things have been so difficult already. I knew the situation was still bad but M'Bogo assured me that while tensions are high, problems like this were a thing of the past!_ "

Kneeling beside her open suitcase patched with silver-toned duct tape, the woman shifted through her clothes for what she needed. "Maybe around Savanna Central they are. Honestly, that was maybe the one moment even I _was_ able to relax. Everyone handling their own thing, doing what they can, and just being an honest to goodness MAMMAL to one another... but you step OUT of that city center of bright lights and colors and Zootopia shows you its true underbelly." She withdrew a baby blue bathrobe from the luggage and stood up, holding her cell phone between her right cheek and shoulder as she put it on.

" _It... it can't be... I mean..._ " the badger tried stumbling over his words as he tried to envision such levels of specism going on in this day and age in a first-world country.

Eyes narrowing in annoyance, Carmelita began to tie the robe's belt around her waist to keep the garment closed as she bluntly answered, "Chief. I got called the **Y-word**."

That was more than enough to snap through the badger's British sensibilities. " _...And now I'm tempted to send covert-operations agents to Zootopia to institute a 'cultural re-education' program to the locals... preferably upside their heads!_ " It was one thing to be insulted, it was another thing to get called **THAT** to your face. It was no better than calling a hoofed mammal a _Gluestick_ , a feline _Pussy_ , any rodent breed _Vermin_ , or even a lapin... _**CUTE**_.

The vulpine woman snorted in disgust but was appeased by her boss' reaction. "Damn right," the police woman murmured. "I'm just lucky one of the locals took pity on me. He witnessed what happened with the condo and decided to offer me not only a helping paw but a place to stay... not his, but that of a friend of his."

" _Right_ ," the Head of the Paris branch of Interpol replied. " _I'll tell M'Bogo to get in contact with the condo association the police had booked a contract with and terminate it. At the very least, they can renegotiate another one with another condo or pay rent towards the person you're currently staying with_ ," the man said in all seriousness. " _So where_ _ **are**_ _you staying?_ "

A rather devious smile blossomed across the woman's muzzle, knowing she was going to enjoy dropping the bomb on her boss with this one. So, doing her best to keep her tone neutral, she proudly proclaimed, "Happytown!"

Carmelita could hear the sounds of her boss mulling over that response. " _I'm not too familiar with..._ " he trailed off. " _Wait! Isn't that... Carm, are you telling me you're going undercover as a prostitute?_ "

Her eyes immediately narrowed in blazing fury. " **NO!** " The Latina red fox snapped into the phone. "I'm talking about the ghetto they segregated the predators into when this place was first founded!" Her shoulders sagged, the woman feeling a lot of her strength leave her with that outburst. "This area of Zootopia is a ghost town now. Just looking out my window gives me the sensation that I survived the end of the world." Well, that or she landed directly into a horror movie. Considering what she'd gone through so far, such wasn't an unfair observation to make.

A heavy sigh came from the earpiece of the vulpine policewoman's cell phone. " _Bloody hell..._ " the voice grumbled irritably. After a moment, the Hispanic vixen's boss queried, " _Are you going to be all right out there in no-mammal's land?_ "

"I'll live," the Interpol Inspector grumbled irritably. "I just need to take a day to myself, work out the kinks the locals left my body in and prepare myself to get back to what needs to be done. So if the local police department has a problem with me not checking, give them this number so they can hash things out with me. All right? Today is _**my**_ day."

The sudden pause on the line made Carmelita realize she wasn't going to like her boss' response. _"...They wanted you to come over right away to get your uniform and gear. The Mayor already announced he was holding a press conference assembly first thing tomorrow morning at the station: eight am sharp._ "

Yep. She did **not** like what she heard. "Tomorrow-today or tomorrow-tomorrow?" The vixen with navy-blue tresses asked, knowing that sometimes when people said, 'tomorrow' they were a day behind because of time zones and meant that day.

" _Tomorrow-tomorrow,_ " the badger explained. " _Meaning it doesn't matter to city hall how badly you got beat up, they need you to bust your butt further and hightail it back to Savanna Central. Pick up your gear and then do what you need... which sounds like you need a chiropractor and a hot shower,_ " he admitted. Taking a deep breath, the older policeman apologized, " _I am terribly sorry to put you on the spot like this, but you know how bureaucrats are..._ "

"...Culos putos..." the woman practically spat. Oh like **HELL** she was making that trip on foot: it was two hours if not more to get to the station from where the vixen was staying at the forgotten Happytown District and she wasn't going to shell out the cash for a ride if she didn't have to! "Look, I'll think of something. Just give them my phone number so if they have any problems, they can call me and I can clear things up."

" _I'll do that,_ " the woman's boss promised her. " _Besides, after what you told me I believe I need to have a chat with my old pal about things._ "

Nodding her head in appreciation of that, the woman held her phone firmly to the side of her head. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" The female red fox grinned as her superior let off a rather loud snort in response.

" _My dear Officer Fox,_ " the badger began in earnest. " _If I followed that advice, it would just lead to me merely_ _ **listening**_ _to said advice. You're the one who taught me there's a major difference between getting advice and actually using it._ " Although he knew the woman wouldn't admit it, she had been _quite_ the Latin spitfire when he first brought her on as his protégé... not to mention she still **was** to a certain degree.

The woman's smile was more genuine at that. "That I did," Carmelita said with a bit of pride as she sat back down on the bed. She then pulled the set of slippers out of her robe's left pocket and laid them out atop the mattress. Cradling the phone between her right cheek and shoulder once more to stabilize it, the vulpine woman began to carefully put her footwear on. "Trust me, I'll get what I need from the station... I may or may not be the one to personally pick my gear up, but I do have options available to me."

The Commissioner-in-Chief considered that response before answering in return. " _Well... I suppose so. Just make sure you're able to get it done today, my dear Inspector Fox._ "

She nodded her head. "Right... so please relax, Chief. You call M'Bogo and tell him either I or someone of my choosing is going to be picking up my gear. I promise, this will get done," the navy blue-haired canid woman replied as she stood up, making sure her feet were securely settled inside of her slippers. "You'll hear from me soon, okay?"

" _All right..._ " came the tired voice of Chief Barkley. " _Like I said, I'll have words with Big Driis as soon as I can and let him know I am_ _ **very**_ _disappointed with the start you've had and that the situation with your equipment will be handled one way or another today... hopefully I can guilt him into giving you a squad car. If you're a ways off from the station, it sounds like you're going to need something to make commuting easier._ "

The vulpine beauty smiled considerably. A police cruiser was _exactly_ what she needed, considering Honey's earlier request. "That would be great, Chief. Thank you again. I'll talk to you soon," the Latina red fox said, bidding her superior adieu before sliding her thumb across the screen of her cell phone and cutting the connection. "Dios bueno..." she muttered in annoyance before letting off a long sigh.

As professional as it would have been to go in person and handle the situation head on... the fact of the matter was she felt like complete and utter hell. If the Interpol Inspector was going to be up and about on the job or at least feel SOMEWHAT like a regular mammal when she clocked in for the first time... the vixen needed the entire day to rest and a large dose of arthritis-strength Tylenol. "Infierno! What I really need a long weekend... but I'll take what I can get," the woman thought as she limped out the bedroom she was using and into the ranch house proper. She made her way towards the kitchen carefully as to not aggravate her already sore muscles and aching bones. With her cell phone still in hand, the vulpine looked through her contacts list. "Time to see if Nick was being legit about his offer..."

The Hispanic vixen tapped her thumb on man's name in her contact page and waited. Within moments, the phone began to ring again; only once as it was picked up right after that first chime. " _Hello, hello! You have reached Wilde Times Inc.: where we all take a walk on the Wilde side! Proprietor Nicholas P. Wilde, speaking!_ "

A small smirk crossed the vixen's muzzle as she heard the familiar and somewhat suave voice of her fellow vulpine on the line. "Hola, Nick!" She greeted, a bit more cheerfully than she felt. "Sorry to call you this early but I've already found myself in need of your services," she admitted, feeling a tad guilty about depending on him so soon, even if she was paying for it. "Do you think you can come over?"

A small laugh, full of light-hearted mirth came over the line. " _Carm, just step outside and we'll talk in my office._ "

That made the vixen blink her brown eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Que?"

Again, a mischievous chuckle was heard over the cell phone. " _You'll see when you step outside,_ " came the male red fox's amused reply.

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Carmelita blinked a few times at the sight she was beholden to. Bringing her right hand up, she rubbed her eyes for a moment before lowering her paw. The policewoman had to blink again, just flabbergasted by the sight that greeted her. "...You work out of the barn!?" The Hispanic vixen was able to finally ask once she got over the sight of the man sunning himself while sipping on an iced drink outside of the honey badger's home.

"Of course not," the male red fox replied as he sat outside the run-down building in a lawn-chair, sunglasses drawn over his face as he sipped through a twisted crazy straw that went straight into a cup of Snarlbuck's iced coffee he held in his hand. Setting down his folded mirror that he'd been using to sun his fur atop a crate to his left, the man explained, "I'm merely using the barn for storage while I get my own living situation re-settled. My office is the great outdoors!"

Granted, the canid conman was currently taking up residence underneath the bridge that led to Honey's property but the vixen didn't need to know that. He may have been a, 'creative entrepreneur' of shady legitimacy but he didn't want her to think of him as some lowly _troll_. After all, he didn't need to drive animals nuts on the internet to find personal happiness.

The vixen just continued stare at the sly vulpine male as he continued to lounge there on a piece of beach furniture, using an upturned plastic bucket as a foot stool. "You, Mr. Wilde are one rather unique individual..." Carmelita replied with some slight confusion as she looked about the set-up the man put together for himself. "And how long have you been out here?"

"Since six am," he half-confessed. Granted, he'd been sleeping outside all night **but** he had left for the city and came back around six with his breakfast. "By the way, I brought you a coffee..." he said as he motioned to the currently untouched large–sorry, _venti_ –cup of iced coffee atop the plank wood crate he was using as a desk. "It's French vanilla flavored with four creams and three shots of liquid sugar."

The female vulpine's eyes widen in complete surprise at what he told her. "How'd you know I liked French vanilla?" Let alone _exactly_ how she took her coffee!

The male red fox merely shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you _did_ say you came from France so... educated guess," he replied with a small chuckle as the woman began to pout. Despite her being the more physically imposing of the two of them, there was something so adorable about seeing the woman annoyed. "As for the rest? Well, you seem like someone who likes their coffee light and sweet and personally? I find regular sugar remains too granular at the levels needed to sweeten up a lar—venti cup of iced coffee but liquid sugar mixes just right."

The Latina beauty could only give a firm nod of her head, causing her navy blue tresses to bob with the motion. It was true: those were the exact reasons why she took her coffee that way. "Well, thank you," she said in gratitude. "As for why I wanted to talk to you... well, it's like I said on the phone. I guess I have my first job for you and Finnick."

"Oh _really_ now?" Nick perked up, a smile blossoming on his face at the thought of the green coming his way. "Is that a fact, Miss Fox?" He cooed with interest as he sat up to show he was giving the woman his full attention. "And what may my partner and I do for you today?"

Coming over to stand beside her fellow vulpine, Carmelita picked up her coffee. She smiled a little as the cold the ice cubes interspersed through the liquid felt rather nice against her hands and she had to fight the temptation to press the side of the plastic cup against the right side of her face. "Apparently the ZPD began freaking out when I didn't check in yesterday with them... starting with the fact they utterly failed to have someone pick me up from the airport," she began to explain in all seriousness before she took the small plastic lid off the top and took a swig directly from her cup. Smacking her lips for a moment, the Hispanic vulpine reveled in both the taste and the sudden influx of caffeine before continuing. "They want me to come in today to pick up my uniform and equipment... and I'll be blunt. I need today for myself."

Nodding his head in understanding, Wilde smirked before replying, "In other words... you're flipping life the bird with both hands and telling them all to fuck off, that you need a, 'Me Day'."

Raising one of her navy blue eyebrows, the Interpol agent answered, "While not how I would put it... yes. That's precisely how I feel. If I'm to be in any shape tomorrow to actually **DO** the damn job they need me for, then _I_ need at least a little time to recuperate from all the physical abuse these assholes have reaped on me!"

"So you need me to go in, get your stuff, and..." Nick trailed off as a thought came to him. "This isn't going to be something like, 'she's a hippo, so here's something fifty-times the size of what you really need' is it?" He'd been in situations like that before. He'd helped Finnick get Cherry an incredibly nice dress for her previous birthday... only to find the one they got–while indeed sized for a vixen–was for a red fox and not the much shorter arctic species. _Ugh. If only dad was still around. Such a screw-up would never have happened_ , he thought bitterly.

The woman blinked her eyes. "No... well, it shouldn't be..." the vulpine beauty frowned as she considered his words. "Tell you what, Nick. If you're handed my uniforms and see anything and I mean do mean _anything_ is off, give me a call. I'll give you or whoever is handling my police outfits my proper measurements. Considering how they've screwed up so far, I wouldn't be too surprised if they had gotten that wrong as well."

The enterprising entrepreneur smirked in a decidedly mischievous manner. "Oh, there's no need to call," he waved off his fellow red fox. "Thirty-six DD bust, thirty-four waist, four-feet five inches height, thirty-nine pounds..." he said, prattling off the woman's measurements.

Eyes going wide, the policewoman gawked as she stared down at the lounging vulpine. She had been taken off guard so thoroughly by his casual display of her personal information that she nearly dropped her coffee. "...How?" Was all she could manage to inquire, having been so taken aback by this turn of events.

"How did I know?" He asked with a knowing smile. "Well, I just happened to see the sizes while I was helping you pick up your clothes from the side-walk. And then I happened to catch sight of your passport book while I was performing an emergency duct tape operation on your luggage in the back of the van." Again, he was being honest. Those were indeed the times he saw the vixen's personal information... she just didn't need to know that he had purposely gone looking for such.

The Hispanic policewoman let off a long-suffering sigh before giving the troublesome tod a most annoyed expression. "You are **so** freaking lucky, Wilde. I'm too damn exhausted to make a big deal about this right now. Just don't go around blabbing all of that to everyone, all right? All I need is for you to make sure my uniforms are properly sized."

That mischievous grin of his spreading across his muzzle once more, Nick turned about in his seat. Throwing his legs over the side of his lawn chair before he sat up and saluted the woman in response with his free hand. He looked at her over the rim of his dark-tinted aviator sunglasses before replying, "Will do, Officer Fox! Just let me finish my coffee and I'll give Finnick a ring. Sure, he'll be a _tad_ annoyed that we're getting a start so early but hey... money is money..." he wagged his eyebrows at his fellow red fox letting her know that, yes, he expected to be paid as they had agreed upon last night.

Realizing what he was getting at, the woman rolled her eyes in annoyance. " **Fine**. Just be prompt. I'll even throw in twenty bucks for your lunch if you two don't drag your tails on this," she offered, hoping such would be enough of an incentive to get the fox to take this job seriously.

At the offer of even more cash, Nick perked up considerably. "As the saying goes, 'I'm not gay, but twenty bucks is twenty bucks'!" He said with a devious chuckle. Seeing her raised eyebrow, he told his fellow red fox, "Oh don't fret none, Carm. I'll get it done and get back here before you know it!"

Both pleased and slightly upset by the man's–surprisingly–mercenary enthusiasm, Carmelita nodded her head in acceptance. That's just the way it was in Zootopia, she supposed. "Great. I'll go get my wallet," she said as she turned around and made her way back towards the house, unintentionally adding a sway to her hips as she went.

A sway that the male vulpine couldn't help but watch with each and every step the vixen beauty took. "Blue might not have been my favorite color growing up but it sure is becoming it..." he murmured as he was absorbed by the shimmy and shift of what the baby blue cotton bathrobe contained. Placing his coffee back on the small wooden crate, the red fox took his cell phone out of his pocket and began to search through his history. He and Finnick needed to get a move on.

He wasn't worried about having to do this for her, despite his allergies to the police station. While the short-stuff and him were but mere civilians, the crafty fox knew he could make this job of Carm's work. After all, this was also a chance to also meet up with an old friend...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was a typical morning in Savanna Central's Precinct One. The location of the Zootopia Police Department headquarters was jumping with activity, even early in the morning. A large building with ample room for press conferences and other similar events in its lobby alone currently had that space filled with officers milling about on the job. Whether they were working hard or hardly working was up for debate but either way, it was bustling with a flurry of activity as the officers did the part of keeping the city running smoothly.

Currently manning the front desk was the ZPD's resident primary desk attendant, dispatch, and public representative, one Officer Benjamin Clawhauser. The spotted feline was one of the shorter mammals working with the Zootopia Police, although that wasn't saying much. A solidly built if slightly obese cheetah–largely due to his love of The Big Donut's confectionary delights–he had a expertly groomed black-spotted golden pelt, the patterns of which were most prominent along his thick and fluffy tail. An innocent feline with a warm and cheerful personality, he filled his dark blue police uniform well... and then some!

For the moment, said feline was enjoying his usual start of the shift tradition: breakfast! His right hand firmly gripped a large bowl of his all-time favorite cereal, 'Lucky Chomps' and in his left paw, a spoon to dig in with. The super-sugary, protein-packed crunchy treat–with multi-colored high-fructose corn syrup marshmallows–gave the rotund wildcat the energy he would need to function–for all of a half hour–and the sweetness he needed to be the kind and gentle pussycat he was known for all the day long! It was a trait that had made him a delight to be around for _MOST_ of the police force.

"Mmm~MMMM~Mmmmurrrmurrr..." he happily purred as he chewed his cereal of protein power and sugar-coated sawmill dust and bits of cicada carapaces. Yes, the connoisseur of confectionary sweets was so into his part of a complete breakfast–the most colorful part to be precise–that he didn't notice as a pair of small predators made their way up the reception desk of the police lobby.

"A~hem!" The crimson-pelted canid coughed to get the much larger feline's attention. "Hey there, Big Guy! How's it going? Remember us?" Nick chimed in merrily, hoping to get his old friend's attention.

And just like that, the portly cheetah's eyes snapped open at that sudden presence of a male voice, the familiar tone tickling at his memories of youth. "...Murphle?" was his food-muffled response before he had to roughly swallow, making a bulge that actually showed through the expanse of neck fat and nearly caused the top button of his dark blue dress shirt to pop free. With his maw cleared of cereal, the spotted feline looked left and right before he noticed a small set of triangular ears just visible over the edge of the counter.

Pushing his bowl aside and leaning over the desk, Clawhauser took a good look over the edge. His brown eyes widened with an almost child-like delight as he got a good look at not one but a pair of vulpines on the other side of the counter. "Oh... em... goodness!" The chubby feline gasped in delight. "The Nicks! It's been forever and a day since I saw you guys!" He greeted most gleefully. The last time he spent time with either them was just before he entered the Police Academy and that had been a **decade** ago!

The feline's exuberance made the taller of the two vulpine men laugh. "Yeah! Good to see you again, Big Guy!" He chirruped merrily. The feline might have gotten... well... **fatter**. BUT it was becoming obvious that the guy was still the same easy-going and naïve pred Wilde knew back in the day, despite having become a police officer.

" _Emphasis on_ _ **big**_ ," the fennec muttered under his breath, only to nearly fall over as he got smacked by the taller vulpine's thick and bushy tail.

Fortunately for the pair, their old friend either apparently didn't hear or–more likely–chose to ignore the crassness of the desert fox, having come to accept that aspect of Finnick **long** ago. "So what can I do for you two?" Clawhauser queried as he smiled brightly at the pair. "You know that if I can help, I'm willing to do what I can!" Then as an afterthought, he added, "Well... just as long as it doesn't break the law or violate regulations, that is." The chubby feline happened to like his job and didn't want to screw it up! Benjamin had worked hard after high school to get where he was, entered the Police Academy and everything! He didn't want to have to go back to working as a delivery boy for Chez Cheez's to make end's meet!

Nick chuckled. "Well you see, we're here as representatives for one Inspector Carmelita Montoya—"

"Inspector Montoya!?" the cheetah snapped in shock, interrupting the smaller predator. "You mean, you guys actually know what happened to her? Is she okay!?" Seeing the pair nod their heads in unison, an expression of utter relief spread over the feline's rounded face. "Oh thank **goodness**! Chief Bogo has been freaking the hache-eee-double-hockey sticks out over her!" He explained rather energetically, the feline's hands bobbing in time with his talking. "We weren't able to get into contact with her yesterday and the Chief has been _so_ upset over it! She's apparently the best officer of one of the Chief Bogo's oldest friends and the fact she's pretty much been lost in transit also has not only him worried but the higher-ups at city hall in a tizzy!"

The small sandy-furred vulpine titled his head as he used his impressive ears to listen as his old friend prattled on about the effect Carmelita was already having on politics. "Well, this isn't what I expected," the smaller predator muttered softly as Nick nodded in agreement. Who knew a mere vixen could hold such political sway?

Arms crossed over his chest, the male red fox stood there in a relaxed position, allowing Benjamin the chance he needed to get that all off his chest. It seemed taking Carmelita on as a, 'client' was likely one of the better decisions of his career if she had the kind of clout that could leave city hall in an uproar. _Time to drive it on home_ , the fox thought deviously before speaking aloud once more. "Oh yes! She made it all right but the poor gal had a really **horrible** day. Seems she couldn't even get a hotel! I mean, can you believe the nerve of some mammals? Keeping a foreigner lawfully here from checking in because of one spiteful reason or another?"

Bringing his hands up to the side of his chubby face in a show of utter shock, the spotted wildcat gasped in horror. "Oh, that's terrible!" He squeaked out in bewilderment. "I mean, it's bad enough that she couldn't get a hotel room! We also received word from the Flamingle Flats condo association that someone tried to check into her place under her name!" The feline shook his head. "Can you believe how despicable some mammals can be?"

The vulpine's left eye twitched. Oh, that certainly was the case all right... just not in the way his old pal was probably thinking. "Oh, I can imagine all too well, Benji," he replied, referring to the taller predator by his childhood nickname. "Fortunately, I was there to pick her up after I saw her booted out on her ass. It was a heart-breaking sight, I tell you."

The big cheetah nodded his head in understanding. An animal had to be a _real_ insensitive jerk to kick a poor defenseless **puppy**! Or rather, a full grown Chihuahua... which was still the size of a puppy so the old saying still fit, he supposed. "Anyway, would you two mind waiting here?" He asked curiously. "I need to patch on through to Chief Bogo and tell him about this."

Nodding his head in understanding, Nick waved him off good-naturedly. "Oh, don't worry. Not a problem, my dear Benji!" He smiled wide, rather enjoying this. After all, how often did _he_ get to be the one to run roughshod over police procedure? It was rather nice having the open-toed shoe on the other foot for once.

Smiling in relief at the other mammal's compliance, the portly policeman reached over and pulled the front desk's phone off the cradle set. As his right hand held the bright red receiver to the side of his head, the feline brought his other paw down to the intercom device settled on the countertop. He gently pressed a button and waited a moment. As soon as the first light in a set of eight illuminated on the phone's cradle, the spotted officer called out into the phone's transmitter, "Chief Bogo!"

" _What it is, Clawhauser?_ " A deep, rough voice called out over the headset. " _I'm busy with this paperwork the Mayor's office just faxed over. City Hall is having a Goddamned conniption fit right now over the missing officer! Those idiots decided to hold a press conference as soon as tomorrow without consulting with us first and no one can find Inspector Montoya!_ "

"That's just it, Sir!" The rotund feline chirruped excitedly. "I have her representatives here!"

Utter silence was heard from the utter end of the line, not even the man's breathing. Finally though, that deep and serious voice spoke up again. " _...Send them to my office._ _ **Now**_ _._ "

As the line went dead, the cheetah placed the handset down on its cradle before turning his attention back to the pair. "Uh, guys? The chief wants to see you. So if you'd be so kind and head up, that would be great. Thank you."

"Not a problem!" Nick smiled and winked at him as he projected an air of independence to the cheetah. After all, he was experienced at making sure mammals didn't see they got to him. If he maintained his wall of confidence, he could make it through this challenge and **earn** that extra twenty bucks! "Come on, li—big guy," he corrected himself as he took hold of smaller vulpine's hand. "Time to make the donuts!"

Needless to say, Finnick was less than pleased. "We gotta go to the police chief's office!?" The smaller of the two yelped in protest as Wilde began to drag him along. "Nuh-uh!" He huffed as he roughly pulled his paw free from the red fox's grasp. "Screw _**that**_ noise! I'll go wait in the van! Not going to go anywhere within the striking distance of a hardened knuckle punch or the Taser of that cop if I can help it!" He said heatedly as he started to head towards the exit. "If you need me, call me... whether to pick you up when you're done or if you need to use your one phone call to have me post bail because you get your dumb ass arrested."

Watching as the small desert fox trotted his way towards the entrance of the building, the red fox chirruped after his partner, "Would you even do it if I asked?"

"Not likely!" Finnick called back honestly, before heading out through one of the large glass doors as a much larger mammal exited pushed it open to go through as well.

Rolling his eyes, the male fox huffed at the petite vulpine's tactical retreat. Not that he could blame the little thing for his cowardice... he who cons and runs away lives to make a buck another day _was_ the better part of valor, after all. So turning his attention away from the station's entrance and back to the uniformed feline leaning over the reception desk, the lithe vulpine was quick to query, "So Benji... which way to the Chief's office?"

"Oh, just head to the stairs at either side of the lobby and make your way to the central door on the second floor," the portly spotted wildcat replied as he used both his paws to thumb over to his left and right where sets of staircases were stationed that followed the curvature of the building's walls as they ascended to the second floor. "It'll be the door with a green wooden frame, frosted glass interior to fill it out and the surface painted with, 'Chief Bogo' top center. Seriously, you can't miss it!" He chirruped energetically.

"Thanks!" Nick smiled as he walked off towards the right and made his way up the steps, having to really raise his legs up to travel upwards as they were obviously designed with the larger mammals in mind. Once the vulpine successfully reached the second floor, he began following along the sandy-colored walls and interior plants–although he had to admit, he rather liked the feeling of the second floor's shaggy grass carpet against his paws. Coming up to the central door that was just as Clawhauser described it, the pawpsicle hustler raised his right hand up and knocked on the wood. "Hello," he called out loud enough to be heard by whoever was within the room. "I was told to come to Chief Bogo's office."

The response was nearly instantaneous. " _If you're the representative for Officer Montoya, come in_ ," was the answer muffled by the door.

Nodding his head, the vulpine took a quick breath, making sure his nerves were under control. _Okay, this is it, Nick_ , the vulpine mentally prepped himself. _Do what you need to. It's not like this guy knows you've done anything that skirts the law. Just act natural, smooth and be the sly fox you are!_ With that thought in mind, he jumped up to grasp the handle. Making the distance, the fox held on and turned it, allowing the barrier that allowed the office some privacy to swing inward. Releasing his hold and falling back to the floor, the canid conman was greeted to the sight of a rather burly cape buffalo in police uniform.

Noticeably, the larger mammal's right hand by the side of his head, adjusting the glasses on his face as he looked at a set of files. They were the comprised details of what the Mammal Inclusion Initiative was to pertain to and the ebony-skinned herbivore was making mental notes about what he was going to have to do with it, particularly if any changes would have to be made to accommodate their newest recruit. Hearing the noise of his office door being opened, the man replied without looking up, "Take a seat."

Nodding his head, Wilde was pleased to see the cape buffalo was amiable so far. "Thank you, Chief Bogo!" The tiny–in comparison–vulpine replied as he made his way over to the closest of the two chairs set before the massive herbivore's desk. The red fox sighed as he saw that, like the stairs, the furniture was made with much larger mammals in mind... but he still made the best of it. Climbing up the front left leg, the crimson-furred predator got up onto the seat, frowning as he settled down on it. The fox couldn't see over the edge of the man's desk. "Do you mind if I stand up on this? I can barely see you from this thing."

Nodding his head in understanding, the African buffalo began to speak. "Sure, you can stand... if... it's..." he trailed off as he lowered the paperwork, unable to finish speaking and got his first real good look at just what kind of mammal had entered his office.

The air in the room became so thick with tension that one could have cut it with a knife.

It was all too clear to Nick that the man had preconceived notions towards his species. Still, the red fox smiled as he tilted his head and blinked owlishly, appearing as innocent as possible. He wasn't about to do anything to get himself tossed into the zoo if he could help it. "Is there a problem? I mean, surely there _shouldn't_ be a problem... right, Chief Bogo?" He grinned, giving the tall and muscular mammal one of the best smiles he could manage.

Removing his reading glasses, the male bovidae furrowed his thick eyebrows, effectively narrowing his eyes in a rather menacing manner. While the public official didn't shout, yell, start flinging accusations, or anything like that, the fact was he felt more than a little suspicious of the much smaller mammal. "How do you know Inspector Carmelita Montoya?" He queried in all seriousness. The fact the crimson-pelted canid even knew the name of the officer gave him some credibility but this person was still a _fox_. There was a fifty-fifty chance this whole thing was some grandiose scam.

The vulpine didn't even flinch under the muscular herbivore's scrutinizing gaze. "You mean besides the fact I'm working as her personal assistant?" He asked with a grin; knowing from experience that the best way to keep someone from getting under your skin was to get beneath theirs first. "Do I need a badge or something?"

Needless to say, Bogo wasn't impressed by how nonchalant the fox was about this. Still, he was a civilian and hadn't done anything illegal... _**yet**_. That meant he was due the same credence as every other mammal. _Doesn't mean I can't work the truth out of him though_ , the horned herbivore thought as he straightened up in his chair, appearing more imposing as he glared down at the still smiling vulpine. "Oh? Her personal assistant, are you?" He asked, in a deceptively calm manner. "Care to tell me how that would be the case, Mister...?" he trailed off, giving the vulpine an opportunity to introduce himself.

"Wilde," the predator replied, motioning to himself with a grandiose flair. "As for how I came to be her assistant..." he shrugged. "Maybe it's because I watched as she was unlawfully ejected from Flamingle Flats and happened to be the _single mammal_ who came to her assistance while all the taller animals just ignored her plight outright?" He offered quite honestly–because sometimes the simple truth **was** the best way to rile people up. "Seriously, she had a very, and I mean _**very**_ rough time since she got here. And, if I may be frank? She told me all about the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. So wouldn't it make sense that she too would want to work with a fox, someone who has been under-appreciated and downtrodden?" He stared up at the large buffalo, green eyes wide as he tried to look as sweet and innocent as possible.

Inhaling deeply to where his impressive chest looked even more like a massive slab of muscle, Bogo exhaled in an aggravated sigh. When it came to that stupid Initiative of City Hall's, that much at least was true. "Even if I were to believe you, there's still the fact that I'm taking it at your word," the chief of the police said in all seriousness. "So at the very least, humor me. Tell me something that you would know about her that _I_ know about her. And by that, I also mean it's something that other mammals **wouldn't**." If the fox was trying to scam him, this would be most damning. While the punishment for lying to a police officer varied on a case-by-case basis, the fact the fox would have had the gall to capitalize on the Initiative would have seen the vulpine head towards facing the severe end of justice. "So go on, Wilde... _**convince me**_."

Catching onto the underlying threat of what the cape buffalo was doing, the red fox nodded his head, outwardly projecting more confidence and ease than he actually felt. But despite his worries, Nick _was_ an experienced hustler. It was time to put his hard-earned skills of conning to the ultimate test–something he only dared to do BECAUSE he was in the right. "Now see, that's a tough one, Chief," he replied sweetly. "Because _I_ may know something about her that you don't and you might say it's false." The red fox idly scratched his neck, feigning disinterest. "But, sure, let's try this. Carmelita works for Interpol, the Paris branch office so understandably, she flew in from France, where she worked under one Chief James Barkley as his protégé, works as a special agent with the rank of Inspector, is quite the Latin spitfire that doesn't put up with shit for long, that you need her ASAP because the bureaucrats decided they couldn't wait to start milking this whole Initiative for all its worth, she's a tad on the loud side, prefers to take her coffee with French vanilla flavoring, four creams, and three shots of liquid sug—"

" **Enough**!" The police chief snapped aloud, interrupting the long-winded spiel the fox was prattling off before the bovdiae died of old age. "All right, all right... let's say for now I choose to believe you," Bogo raised a hoofed hand up quickly, halting whatever the vulpine was about to say in response. "If you were trying to hustle me, I doubt you'd know all those tidbits." He narrowed his eyes. "But just remember this: if it turns out you actually are running a scam of some sort, well..." a nasty smile spread across the buffalo's face. "I would highly suggest leaving town because you won't have any place you can hide from **me**."

Suppressing the shiver he knew wanted to rattle throughout his pelt, Nick pushed such desires down by energetically replying, "Oh not at all, my good Sir! This is all on the up-and-up. The Inspector just needs me to pick up her gear so she'll be ready to come in first thing tomorrow morning for this press conference you guys are holding."

The Buffalo frowned, starting to feel a tad annoyed that this fox had a comeback or answer for nearly everything he threw at him. "Just remember, the ZPD will **not** be handing over any weapons or other active self-defense equipment," the Chief said in a tone brooking no argument. "However, Mister... Wilde, you said your name was?" he queried, making sure he had the mammal's name in case he had to make a report about this.

Smiling in victory, the red fox nodded his head to the visibly irritated African buffalo. "That's right. Wilde," the vulpine replied as he held his hand out in a friendly gesture. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde! At your service, Chief Bogo!"

Ignoring the outstretched paw, the large and muscular slab of beef replied, "I will release Officer Montoya's uniforms, body armor, and other non-essential gear to one of my active police officers." Again, the tone was firm and menacing. "Whoever I choose will be the one to personally deliver the woman's equipment to her and have the paperwork for Officer Montoya to sign them out out..." he leaned forward his desk, his. "In other words, this transaction will have a paper-trail. Are you still all right with that, Mr. Wilde?" He pressed on, wanting to see if the vulpine had the balls to try and bluff him further.

 _Never let them see they get to you_ , Nick thought as he offered the larger, imposing mammal a wide, teeth-filled smile. Fingers laced together, he then merely shrugged before giving the calm response, "Perfectly fine. If this was a scam, my own mother would disown me in a heartbeat."

"Hrrrnnn..." the cape buffalo growled from deep within his chest as he gave the vulpine the hairy eyeball. "Fine..." the bovine cop finally relented. "Go back to the lobby and have Officer Benjamin Clawhauser take you down to the facility's armory. I'll call ahead and he will have authorization to sign out the Officer Montoya's uniform and non-essentials. You will, of course, share her address with him so he can find his own way to where she has taken up residence if he can't keep up with you..." he smirked. "Unless you need Officer Clawhauser to drive you there. I can imagine that you might have had to walk all the way here..." plus, the man liked the mental image of this sly fox being in the back of a police cruiser.

Choosing to ignore the–sadly accurate–jab that he didn't have the income to afford a vehicle, the conman chose to wave off the police chief's offer. "Oh, no worries!" The crimson-furred vulpine chirruped as he carefully jumped off from the seat. "My partner and I came down in a van. We can lead the policeman to where Carmelita's staying." Not to mention, it was a chance to have the portly cheetah stop by Honey's again. The woman had been asking for the feline for quite some time... although the fox seriously doubted they would be able to fit his fat spotted ass underneath the sink cabinet, let along through the entrance port to her bunker.

"Fine, whatever," the larger herbivore said in annoyance. "Just go take care of it," Bogo growled out as Nick nodded and left the room. As soon as the door closed, the bovine shook his head in disgust. "Ugh... I'm taking an awful risk here. I better double-check to make sure I don't regret it..." he murmured as he reached for his cell phone to notify Chief Barkley of this turn of events. Hopefully the badger knew about this already. At worst, he could just have the fox arrested for fraud while in the most highly defended spot of the station. At best... well, at best, it could have been the very unlikely outcome that the vulpine was actually telling the truth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"All righty!" The rotund police officer piped up merrily as he accepted the package through the port opening of the multi-material security wall while a lupine police officer stood on the other side of said grating, both for security duty as well as supply detail. "We got four full sets of uniforms here!" Benjamin replied as he turned about and offered the box to Nick.

Accepting it, the male vulpine was quick to cut through the tape with the stubby claws on his nimble fingers. He opened the large cardboard flaps and frowned at the sight that greeted him. Removing one of the blue shirts from inside the container, he held up what looked like a child's first t-shirt and replied, "What the hell is this?"

That inquiry made Clawhauser blink his eyes; not from the fact Nick was questioning it but the rather rude tone he took. "Um... it's part of Inspector Montoya's uniform," the spotted feline cop answered, wondering what the problem was. Everything was brand new, ordered just for her!

Rolling his green eyes in annoyance, the canid conman let off a sigh of exasperation. "No, Benji. If anything, this looks more like it belongs on a piece of cross-dressing cosplay for Finnick," the red fox snorted in response. "There's no way in hell this will fit her! Do you guys even know what she looks like?"

At that harsh retort, the cheetah had the decency to blush slightly with embarrassment. "Actually, we were told—"

"Nevermind," the pawpsicle hustler huffed irritably. He looked up at the tall wolven officer on the other side of the combo of chain-link fencing and bulletproof glass wall before shouting, "Hey! Hey you! Officer!" He began snapping his fingers to make sure he drew the canid policeman's attention. "You got any clothing sized more for lupine ladies?" The red fox _**so**_ wanted to add, 'like yourself, dumb-dumb' but he promised Carmelita he wouldn't purposely anything to slow down the procedure... that extra twenty bucks for lunch–or maybe even a Jumbo Pop–depended on it!

Tilting his head down at the smaller canid, the caretaker for the police station's armory raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Well now, that depends..." the timber wolf replied to him from where he was stationed safely behind the chain-link fence barrier. "Why do you ask?"

"Because that is more along the size of Carmelita's height," Nick stated with a matter-of-fact tone of voice. As both the lupine and the feline officers turned their surprised gazes downwards to give him their full attention, the male fox could only reply, "I'm serious! The lady stands a whole head higher than me! She's tall for her species!"

Both members of the Zootopia police department looked at each other in surprise. "You know, Lupus," Benjamin spoke up, the cheetah being the first to find his voice. "This would explain why no one was able to find her."

The canid cop behind the metal and ballistic glass transaction barrier of the armory nodded his head in response. "True... everybody was probably looking for someone MUCH shorter..." he shook his head before turning his attention towards the fox. "Look, we might not have anything brand new, per se but we do keep all kinds of extra equipment and uniform articles back here too. If you give me a moment and some information, I can try and cobble something together so she's presentable for tomorrow."

Smiling, the vulpine nodded his head in understanding. "That's all I can ask. So what do you need to know?"

"You said she's the size of a female wolf or..." he looked down. "Well, a head taller than you. If that's the case, it sounds to me like she's more on par with a coyote... I would know! Trust me on this one," Officer Lupus said in all seriousness; he'd dated a few lovely wolf women in his day. "So which would it be?"

Brining his right hand up to his chin, the mammal rubbed at his muzzle in thought as he considered the woman's dimensions. "Okay, you might want to get pants that are more akin to a coyote in leg length but go still go with the wolf size." As the pair of policemen stared at the smaller mammal, he replied, "Trust me, she's _quite_ busty." He brought his hands out in front of his chest for emphasis. "And I mean thirty-six DD busty!"

Those stares turned from curiosity to those of surprise. Both officers looked at each other. Clawhauser was the first to speak. "You... you think we got anything like that, Franklin?" He chirruped, so shocked he didn't address his fellow officer as such.

The lupine male nodded his head. "Yeah... I think so," the officer standing behind the wall of multi-layered polycarbonate and laminated glass began, the gears in his head already spinning. Turning his attention back to the vulpine in the green Hawaiian shirt, has asked, "I do believe I need to go to wolf-sizes for someone of that height but THAT mass. What about her legs?"

Now Nick was grinning. "Oh, she has an extremely thin waist but..." he exhaled slowly as he really thought about it. "The fact is, she needs a size thirty-four because of her **hips**!"

Blinking his eyes at that statement, the cheetah policeman couldn't help but query. "Hips like Gazelle, our musical savior and angel with horns?" He could hardly believe another mammal could match such perfection.

Considering that for a moment, the canid conman had to nod his head firmly. "Exactly. Really, if you shrunk down Gazelle a bit, they would likely be on par when it came to hips..." he smirked deviously and added, "And that ain't no lie!"

Benjamin stared and tried to imagine what kind of Chihuahua would be so big. "...Was her father a Great Dane?" He could only imagine how a pair of canines of such different sizes could have managed to do the deed. And no one could ever doubt that Clawhauser had imagination.

The lupine officer for his part, merely twitched at the thought. It was quite obvious that he actual knew a couple like that. "I feel horrible for her mother if that's the case!" The wolf responded, shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts.

Having caught that, Nick opened his mouth to debunk such rumors... only to have to pause. He really didn't know one way or the other if her parents were a vixen and a Great Dane. "If she does, she REALLY took after her mother's side of the family." That woman was all fox and THEN some... honest to God, the vulpine had never seen a vixen with that much, 'va-voom' in his life! And he found himself ever-so thankful that he got to.

Bringing a hand up to his chin thought, the portly feline considered that. "Maybe it's because she's Hispanic?" The obese cheetah surmised. "I mean, you compare our singer and songwriter of the heart, all-precious Gazelle to... well... any OTHER gazelle... and she is built with a body that would make all women want to be her and all men want to be _**WITH**_ her!"

" _And some visa-versa_ ," Officer Lupus muttered under his breath as he eyed the feline on the other side of the barrier. Releasing an irritable sight, the police officer turned his attention back to the smaller vulpine. "Look, buddy. Just give me a bit of time. I need to look through storage..." as he turned about and walked back into the armory, the pair outside the ballistic glass and chain-link fence barrier could hear, " _Where the hell am I going to find a Kevlar vest small enough for that frame yet big enough for tits_ _ **that**_ _big?_ "

As the lupine officer left him and his tall friend to themselves, Nick turned to Clawhauser. He could use the time they were forced to wait to try and catch up with the spotted wildcat. "So, Big Guy," he chirruped. As his rotund buddy turned to face him, the vulpine continued, "What have you been up to? You look like you won an all you can eat buffet and then ate the whole place out of business." He said teasingly as he brought a hand up and gently poked his belly.

Bringing his hands down to rub where the vulpine prodded him, the cheetah pouted. "Oh, c'mon, Nick... that's not very nice!" He murmured as his hands patted over the spot, straightening out his shirt over his rounded abdomen.

Practically feeling the hurt generating off the other mammal, the red fox looked up at his buddy. "Sorry about that, Benji," he apologized genuinely. "I was just trying to get a laugh out of you. I guess I'm just a little stressed out is all..." Nick admitted before letting off a sigh as he plopped down to sit on the ground. "Mind if I level with you?" When the cheetah nodded at him, the vulpine continued. "You know how hard it is for someone like me to find places to live in this city, right?"

An expression of absolute shock immediately burst across the feline's rather chubby features. "Nick! Oh, don't tell me that you got evicted!" Clawhauser gasped, bringing his hands up to his mouth in shock. "That's horrible!"

Shaking his head, the vulpine explained, "No, no... just had to go through remodeling. I had to get all my stuff out of the place just and... guess it caught up to me." He chuckled softly, realizing that while he had made so much money over the years, he barely had a dime to his name. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that about your weight, buddy."

"It's okay," the ever-benevolent cheetah smiled as he brought a paw down to the vulpine's shoulder. He gave the fox a gentle rub for a moment before grasping and helping pull his friend back up to his feet. "Stress gets to all of us in different ways after all," the feline murmured before a thought occurred to him. "HEY! I got an idea, Nick!" The portly cheetah merrily chirruped. "You can stay at my place while they remodel your home!" He was grinning wide, energetically hopping in place as bounced on the heels of his feet, causing his folds of fat to go bouncing as well. "Oh, it'll be great! It'll give us a chance to get to know one another again, catch up on old times and rebuild our friendship!"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "...I don't know about that... I wouldn't want to put you out." Let alone, even if the fox was doing more legitimate work while Carmelita was in Zootopia, he didn't want a _**COP**_ to find out what he had been doing thus far to make money. The smiling ball of spots would be obliged to bring him in!

"But Nick, friendship is magic!" The rotund feline chirruped. "Besides! I got more than enough room! I own a studio apartment right on Acacia Street in Savanna Central! Got direct access to the monorail line's Inner-Loop track; I get to work and back in less than ten minutes."

That statement made the smaller vulpine's eyes practically bulge out of his skull. For the first time today, a policeman had finally managed to catch him off-guard. "Suh-seriously!?" The vulpine squawked out. "How the heck can you afford a **studio** on an _officer's salary_ , let alone one in the _**heart of Zootopia**_!?"

"Well, Mr. Bucksworth–the head of the condo association–had a really hard time selling the place because of the cult murder/suicide pact ala police shootout that the cultists fulfilled one night," Benjamin replied nonchalantly. "I knew about the whole thing because I was on dispatch that night and so I managed to talk the rent down **a lot**! Once I moved in, all I needed was a number of posters to cover the bullet holes, a ton of bleach, and _voila_! Good as new!"

Blinking his eyes a couple of times as he processed that, the vulpine tilted his head back to look up at the taller feline. "That... that's actually pretty good," Nick admitted. He couldn't fault the cheetah for doing that. HELL! Wilde _wished_ he could have found a deal like that! It would certainly beat sleeping in a ditch somewhere.

His hands coming down to rap his fingers on his own belly, the cheetah smiled rather merrily down at the vulpine. "So you up for it, little buddy? We gonna have an extended sleepover?"

The red fox mulled over it, considering the much larger feline's offer. He knew it was genuine. Back when Benjamin, Finnick, and him were working at Chez Cheeze's down in Little Rodentia, the feline bad been one of the most naive and honest mammals the fox had ever met. He was innocent to a fault if not to the point of bordering on childish. If this all still held true for the larger pred–and Wilde got the feeling it did–then Clawhauser was only offering out of the goodness of his–likely artery-clogged–heart.

However, before Nick could answer, a cry of, " _AH HA!_ " sounded from within the armory. The two predators turned in time to watch as Officer Franklin Lupus came marching back towards the port opening in the reinforced glass and metal barrier. "Gentlemen, we got lucky!" He said as he held up a Kevlar vest. "We have one we were keeping in storage. I checked the paperwork on this sucker: this is one that got put in back into storage because it was molded incorrectly. It was meant for Officer Fangmeyer but the company got the waist measurements wrong. There's enough room for the tiger's upper torso but no way in hell it would close around her waist. It's been waiting down here to be shipped back but I think it will help Officer Montoya."

Taking a good look at the protective armor–which, because of its waist, collapsed in the front somewhat to give it the appearance of breasts–Nick couldn't help but smirk as he nodded. "It's perfect. She's going to be quite happy to get all of this." He doubted Carm would want to squeeze her 'girls' into one of the flatter chest-pieces.

"Good," Franklin replied. "Because we don't have anything big enough for her chest but small enough for her in the back," the lupine admitted as he sat down again in the chair on his side of the wall. "Here. Let me fill out the paper work so you can take this and get going."

Nicholas looked a little perturbed. "Just the vest?" He queried. Oh, Carm wasn't going to like that at all.

The canid police officer shook his head. "No, there's more. I just need to mark down that the vest's not being returned to the production company. After that, I have to go find some pants and shirts for her before marking their codes down. Then I have to make sure that I have weapons and gear lined up for tomorrow for her and I have to file _THOSE_ into the system as well." The wolf explained aloud before grumbling under his breath about red tape and receiving sympathetic looks from the two on the other side of the bulletproof glass. "I swear, if they want to take criminals off the streets, just have them do our red tape work for a week. They'll be so sick of having to sign forms or type into computers whenever something goes wrong that they'll all instantly reform!"

That last comment made the vulpine chuckle. "Darn right! I tell you, that is how you make criminals truly pay their debt to society. Make _THEM_ fill out the paperwork they caused to exist. Zootopia really WOULD be a utopia in two weeks. Tops!" And he could say that! It wasn't like _he_ was the one to break the law... outright anyway.

And the taxes didn't count! Those were to the Federal government, not Zootopia's laws!

Nodding his head, the timber wolf allowed Officer Clawhauser to take the vest through the port opening and turned about to retrieve clothing in that woman's size. As he had his back to them, he paused in his footsteps to query, "By the way... do you have a shoe size for her?"

The small red fox blinked his emerald eyes. "...Actually that might be the one thing I do NOT..." Nick admitted. He looked down at his own feet and wiggled his toes. "Well I think she's a size or two bigger than me... but that's only in foot length. So perhaps a size six?"

"Sure, sure..." the lupine officer murmured before disappearing back into the armory's storage area for non-lethal equipment and police uniforms.

As Officer Lupus left them alone once more, Clawhauser turned to his shorter friend and gave him a wry smile. "Checking out her boobs and hips but not her shoes? How typical."

Raising an eyebrow at the accusation, the vulpine crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey, now... if you saw her, you'd know _exactly_ why I wasn't looking at her feet." Nick replied, defending himself. Seriously, Miss Fox was just... stacked in **all** the right places.

"Oh come on now," the chubby cheetah teased. "I am the biggest fan-boy of Gazelle there is and even _I_ look at her shoes... and by the way? When it comes to the actual foot-wear, she has **great** taste in Preydas."

Nick snorted. "Well yeah. That's because Miss Hips-Don't-Lie is _just_ that! She's got hips, so your gaze is always drawn down." He smirked deviously and teased, "I bet you don't even know what the colors of her eyes are!"

"Of course I do!" The feline policeman quickly shouted in denial, puffing himself up with pride as being one of Gazelle's biggest fans. "She's... uh... brown?"

The smirk on Wilde's face widened further. "You don't sound too sure there, Benji~iii..." he drew out his friend's name with a melodious tone in a teasing manner.

"Definitely brown!" The cheetah huffed. "What can I say? I'm not that sort of animal, Nick..." he said, as if having accepted that being a descended from carnivores was a bad thing and he shouldn't be what his nature intended of him.

"Yes, but you are a pred and she is prey... they do say opposites attract," the male vulpine replied, teasing the larger animal. Yes, he felt he could get away with gently prodding the poor blushing feline. It wasn't like Nick himself was ever going to fall for some prey animal though. _Lord,_ _ **that**_ _will be the day! I'd have to turn in my pred pride card if I fell for... I don't know... a rabbit of all things_ , he thought jokingly.

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"Ah... ah! AH~CHOO!" A certain rabbit suddenly sneezed. She brought her hand up to her face, rubbing her nose for a moment before it twitched in a rather adorable fashion. "Geeze..." she murmured as she sniffled. "Wonder what that was about..." she trailed off before smirking slightly. "Maybe someone is thinking about me!"

Judy couldn't help but giggle at herself for thinking of such a childish superstition before picking her carrot pent back up and returning to writing down all her information on the Police Academy form. She was going to join the Zootopia Police Department, come hache-eee-double-hockey sticks or high water!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Yeah, if I fell for a rabbit, it would only be because we're going over a waterfall together_ , the canid conman thought before chuckling aloud.

Raising an eyebrow, the portly cheetah couldn't help but pout. "Aww... c'mon, Nick! It's not _that_ funny..." he said with a tone of voice that was that specific note of whine only felines could manage; particularly kittens. "So it took me a bit to remember her eye color. Big whoop!"

Shaking his head good-naturedly, Nick went on to explain, "Oh, it's not about that, Benji. I was just thinking about my own interests. I tell you, that Carmelita..." he let off a low whistle. "She's the sort of woman that would get prey happily bathing in barbeque sauce if they thought it gave them even a _**slight**_ chance at hooking up with her. She is absolutely gorgeous!"

That made the feline raise an eyebrow. From what he knew of the vulpine, he'd always been one who focused more on money than the ladies. To hear him wax on almost poetically about Officer Montoya was pretty surprising. "Really now?" Benji scratched his chin idly as he considered that. "If you're this head-over-heels for the woman, then I can't wait to meet her."

Nick schooled his features. "Oh, I'm not head-over-heels for her," he said in a calm tone. "I just happen to be able to appreciate a fine female body. And Benji? She has got one hell of a body!" He brought both his hands up him and made an hourglass-outline in the air before him. "Plus, she has something most of the beautiful ladies don't... a brain! Honest to goodness intelligence!" His grin went goofy again. If there was one thing the vulpine actually liked, it was a smart, _independent_ , and _**SEXY**_ woman. From his experiences dating, it was difficult to find a woman who had two, let alone all three aspects he looked for.

And the fact she was also a fox made it all that much better.

"All right!" The lupine policeman shouted as he entered the vicinity once more from the storage area. His arms were full of clothes, a jumbled pile with a pair of boots on top, held together by a pair of belts. "I got four shirts, four sets of pants, two belts, one set of boots, a set of gloves, her badge, and other assorted pieces." He placed them down on his side of the transaction port's counter-top before he began the long and arduous process of signing everything out on his end of things in both the computer and physical paperwork. "I tell you, you're lucky I got them this quickly! Everything is boxed and I have to check them personally!" The wolf let out an irritably sigh. "Someone had the bright idea to have the containers list what they hold but there's nothing on them to indicate sizes!"

Looking over the stack of garments for a moment, the vulpine nodded his head. "Yeah... that'll work," Nick appraised before turning his attention back to Clawhauser. "Could I get a little help here? I may be able to carry all of them, but..." he motioned that it was a wee bit too high for him to reach.

Realizing that there was a bit of a height problem involved, the feline nodded his head. "Oh, no problem, Nicky!" The cheetah smiled at his old friend before turning towards the port opening in the steel wire and ballistics glass wall. "Least I can do for you. Besides, you'd probably get flattened by the officers if _you_ tried to walk out with this stuff."

Nick scoffed at that. "Oh come on now. Who would be dumb enough to rob a police station?"

"The Bug Burgla and Grimouse," The wolf muttered, much to the red fox's shock, mostly because there was someone stupid enough to try it. "To be fair, the pair was hopped up on so many drugs that they thought they were at a fast food joint."

The tiny predator blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Well now, **that** must have been an entertaining evening," the canid conman finally replied before turning his attention towards Clawhauser. "All right. I'm going to head up and get to the van... you want to follow us or do you need an address?" Wilde smiled a bit. "I would hope you still know the way."

That inquiry caught the pudgy cheetah's attention. "Oh? What do you mean?" The friendly feline chirruped. "Is Officer Montoya staying somewhere I know?"

Offering the large spotted wildcat a genuine smile, all Nick could answer was, "Honey's place."

The police officer's eyes lit up. "Honey? She's staying with Honey?" At the nod of the tod's head, the feline let out a squeal of delight. "Oh, this is great! I haven't had a chance to go to Mrs. Badger's in **FOREVER**! I give her calls weekly but I haven't been able to step foot there..." he frowned. "Mostly because I can't fit into her bunker no more..." he admitted a bit, the shame he felt obvious.

"Well, don't worry about it," the vulpine assured his larger predator pal. "She'll be happy to know that you at least want to say hi to her." Nick smiled as he grabbed the belt-tied shoes while Clawhauser grabbed the rest of the clothes. "Shall we?"

Nodding his head, Clawhauser followed as the pair of mammals left the station's armory.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 ***Ri~~iiiiing*!  
**

 ***Ri~~iiiiing*!**

 ***Ri~~iiiiing*!  
**

The vixen's brown eyes snapped wide open, before shutting again. Carmelita groaned, realizing she was back in the world of the living. "Maldita sea todo..." the woman murmured tiredly in annoyance as her right arm reached out for her nightstand, fingers feeling about the top of her furniture for her cell phone once more. It took a few blind attempts but she soon found and slid her finger over the front as she pulled it to the side of her head. With the line open, the woman answered, "Hola..."

" _Hey, Carm!_ " The familiar voice of Nicholas chirruped over the phone. " _Do you mind coming out? I got your equipment from the ZPD for you_."

The vixen let off another groan before extending her arm out, pulling the phone away so she could yawn. Smacking her lips, the Hispanic vulpine brought the phone back to the side of her head as she queried, "Nick? Zat you?" Was her fatigued response.

A chuckle sounded over the line. " _That it is, sleepy-heard. Is this a bad time?_ "

"No... no, I'm good," the vixen replied. "Just lemme get my shoes on..." she murmured as she sat up in the bed, surprised and slightly pleased to find her body wasn't resisting her movements _**as**_ vehemently as it had earlier that morning. Sliding her feet into slippers, she asked, "You need me to let you in?"

" _Nah_ ," was the male fox's reply. " _I have a key, remember? We're just waiting for you out here in the living room_."

"Good. See you in a moment," the blue-haired vixen said in response before switching her phone off. Placing both hands on the bed, the policewoman pushed herself off from the bed and stood up. She reached her arms out at either side, doing her best to stretch and work the kinks out of her body, pleased to find that while still sore it was more from stiffness than outright pain as it had been. Bringing her left hand to the front of her muzzle, the Latina vulpine tried to stifle another yawn before making her way to the entrance of her bedroom.

Opening the door, the female red fox made her way down the hall and into the living room. Seeing both men and a uniformed officer in the social area fussing over a whole bunch of different things, the woman did her best to try and wake up so she could attend to business. "Hola," she called out in greeting, giving a wave before needing to bring it to her mouth again to stifle a yawn. "Hey Nick, hey Finnick. And hello Officer. I'm Carmelita. Pleasure to meet you."

She blinked her chocolate eyes when there was no immediate response. Keeping her lids open, she looked out at the room, wondering why all three men–the two familiar vulpines and the policeman she realized was an overweight cheetah–were just gawking at her. "...What?"

"Well, uh..." Nick stammered in embarrassment, his face a few shades redder than usual. "This is awkward, Carm..." he murmured before deciding to break it to her as nonchalantly as possible. "Er... well, to get things started, this is Officer Benjamin Clawhauser. Benji, this fine lady in her blue underpants is the newest officer of Zootopia's police department for that Initiative thing."

It took a moment for Carmelita to register what her fellow red fox said. "Lady in her..." she began to repeat, only to trail off as she looked down. Yes, she was so out of it that she forgot to get her bathrobe on. " **Jesús Cristo de mierda!** " She cried out in utter terror before rushing back to the bedroom with her arms over her chest and tail between her legs, the adrenaline that suddenly shot through her system forcing her wide-awake.

Left alone to themselves once more, all Benjamin could mutter was, "Dubbya. Tee. Fudge." Shaking his head for a moment, he had to turn to his friends. "For the record, I am **still** a Gazelle fan-boy... but even I think she's immensely beautiful." After all, she was incredibly built and that voice! Oh that _VOICE_! Carmelita had that spicy Latin growl that kicked all the pleasure centers of his brain that the Columbian singer's normally tickled.

And then a realization came to him about that beauty that left him awe-struck. "Wait..." he murmured as confusion settled in the forefront of his mind. "She's a fox?"

"What? Didn't anyone tell you?" Nick asked, smiling wide in an almost goof fashion. He would normally have been more attentive of things like this but he was a tad distracted at the moment. The image of Carmelita in her undies was going to be... dancing vividly through his mind for a while. It was too bad she had to turn around to run away...

Almost.

He would have _loved_ to have seen her bounce away.

"Well... **YEAH**!" Clawhauser chirruped excitedly. "I mean, we were told to expect—"

"Sorry!" The Latina beauty's voice called out from her bedroom before she stepped out, now adorned in the baby-blue bathrobe the male red fox had seen her in that morning. Coming back to the group, she apologized, "I mean it! I am terribly sorry! That is a horrible first impression to make, Officer..." she looked to the cheetah, feeling so damned humiliated. She'd been told his name and promptly forgot it in her embarrassment.

Smiling gently at the vixen's humility, the male feline brought a hand up and waved off the apology. "Oh, that's all right, Officer Montoya. Quite all right, really!" He smiled wide, making his chubby cheeks puff up with the motion of him grinning. "If anything, this is now my absolute favorite introduction to a fellow officer _**EVER**_!"

Bringing her right hand up to cover her face, Carmelita just groaned in despair. "Could... would you please be so kind as to _not_ spread this story around? We both know how fast rumors fly."

Rolling his eyes, the desert fox snorted. "Not many would believe it." The smallest person in the room finally managed to quip, shaking his head in disgust. Why couldn't he be single right now? Not that he would trade Cherry for the world... but a chance to have macked the vixen would have been appreciated.

Nodding his head in agreement, the chubby cheetah added, "Finnick has a point. Not many would think I was that lucky..." It was true that he wasn't with anyone officially, but he HAD to keep himself available on the one-percent off-chance Gazelle asked him on a date! Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the male officer changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm Benjamin. Officer Benjamin Clawhauser... I normally work Dispatch for the ZPD but they let me leave the station to confirm your presence." His cheeks lifted up as he grinned again. "And I have to say: **WOW**!" He gasped out with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. "You have no idea the hub-bub that is surrounding you right now!"

Taking her eyes off from the pile of clothes she assumed was for her, Carmelita looked towards her fellow officer in surprise. "Que?" She chirruped curiously. "Whatever do you mean, Officer Clawhauser?" She frowned a bit and quickly added, "I take it this has to do with City Hall having a shit-hemorrhage that they couldn't find me?"

"Well... yeah!" The portly policeman answered. "What I mean is, we were supposed to pick you up and traffic happened because traffic's bad but we didn't mean to insult... you..." he trailed off as he stumbled over his words. Taking a deep breath, the cheetah began once more. "That is to say, when we got someone there, you had already left! No one heard from you and everyone was blowing their tops! This person blaming that person, this mammal chewing that mammal's head off, and what-not..." he chuckled a bit in relief. "Man though, you are going to knock their socks off when they finally get to meet you!"

Nick grimaced slightly. "Benji, don't mention biting people's heads off." There was a sudden thud and he sighed while turning to look at the smallest fox in the room. "The little guy freaks out at the thought of cops eating people."

Looking down at the fainted form of Finnick, the portly spotted feline winced. "OO~oooh... sorry about that..." he cooed in response before turning his attention back to the blue-tressed vixen. "Anyway... I brought your stuff!" He chirruped as he held paperwork out to the woman in his right hand and a pen with the other. "I'm going to have to ask you to sign all these forms. The station needs proof that you have received your stuff and both the armory and accounting want a paper-trail of the equipment."

Accepting all the printed papers, the vixen gazed over them for a moment, reading the details before she began writing her signatures on each piece. "No matter where I am in the world, paperwork and donuts seem to be the one constant that always follows."

A look of indignation managed to erupt across Clawhauser's face. "Hey now! There's nothing wrong with donuts. Donuts are sugary bliss!" The cheetah happily chirruped.

Nick nodded at that. "True enough. Homemade or store bought, donuts are always good." It was why he never even attempted to try and make money off of them. One couldn't have a successful business model if they literally ate the profits. At least having a pawpsicle now and then was only a two dollar loss when he did. _Not like I do it every day either_ , he mentally added.

The female fox paused as she considered that. "I can't really disagree myself," Carmelita admitted before she continued to sign the paperwork once more. Not that she was in love with donuts, but it was a nice snack to get a quick energy boost thanks to all the sugar they were packed with. Sly, that lucky ring-tailed bastard... he could eat a whole dozen by himself and not gain a pound! Whenever she ate more than one at a time, those traitorous confectionary delights would go straight to her hips! _Probably_ _ **why**_ _he was always trying to get me to eat them_ , she thought with both annoyance and nostalgia as she signed her name again and again as she flipped through the stack of papers, writing off for each shirt, belt, shoe, glove, radio, and piece of armor. "I don't see anything in here for restraints or weapons, let alone a police cruiser..." she said pointedly. If they expected her to commute every day then she sure as hell needed a set of wheels!

...Or a helicopter.

Wincing considerably in response to the woman's inquiry, poor Benjamin looked as though he bit into a lemon. "Yeah... about that..." he murmured uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned his head to the male red fox in the room, his friend from high school and hopefully buddy once more. "Hey Nick, can I be blunt? I truly mean no offense..." he said, letting the vulpine know that the reason was rather _sensitive_.

Pausing in resuscitating the downed fennec, Wilde merely shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry. None taken," the male vulpine replied as he continued to press down on the desert fox's chest, trying to use timed compressions to wake him up–like hell he was doing CPR and inadvertently kissing the little guy. The last time he did, Finnick threatened to bite his face off! "I'm used to it."

Sighing in relief, the feline nodded his head before turning his attention back to the female red fox. "Well, Officer Montoya... a mammal like Nick isn't considered too _trustworthy_. I mean, yeah he's a swell guy and I know him personally but..." he winced once more, feeling like such a heel at what he was about to say. "He's a fox... and..." he trailed off guiltily for a moment. Taking another deep breath, he blurted out, "They weren't about to risk any equipment that could be considered dangerous in the wrong paws and his claim that he was your assistant wasn't considered credible enough. So I was sent along to confirm everything."

At her fellow officer's nervous but honest explanation, Carmelita sighed. She bit her lip for a moment as she considered things. Finally, she looked up to meet the taller predator's gaze and asked point blank, "This won't be a problem for me when I get there, will it?"

The chubby cheetah sighed and brought his hands together, squeezing his fingers tight. "A little bit. I'll admit, prejudice runs deep around here but I'm sure that you can overcome them... or at least get people to see past it... maybe?" He gave her what he felt was a reassuring grin but it was more nervous than anything else. "Well, you are going to be the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. I think if they want to make this work, City Hall will back you up all the way. They would be shooting themselves in the foot if they didn't."

The vixen nodded her head in understanding, making her mane of navy blue tresses bounce with the motion. "Hey, Benjamin? Do you mind if I take a moment to try some of this stuff on, to make sure it fits?" She asked as she began to pick up some of the items he had delivered. "That way, if they don't I can have you come back with stuff that will. Is that okay?" She hated to take up a fellow police officer's valuable time but she was getting a sinking feeling it would be rather difficult for a fox like her to have Animal Resources get anything done in a timely manner.

"Oh, sure! No problem!" Clawhauser chirruped merrily, feeling more confident that he could at least offer her this much in assistance. "Go right ahead!" He proclaimed as he grasped the Kevlar vest from the pile of articles and held it out to her. "Let's see how you look!"

Taking the vest in her hands, the Latina beauty began to gather up numerous pieces of the uniform until she had enough for a full set. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me," she said and quickly made her way back to her bedroom to try the clothes on.

Watching the female red fox head off for a bit, the portly cheetah inhaled deeply before heavily exhaling. Shaking his head to clear it of dirty thoughts, he turned towards where the male vulpine was kneeling by the fennec who was slowly coming to. "So tell me, Nick... are you and her... um..." he blushed and made a circle by pressing the tips of his left thumb and index finger together before sliding his right index finger back and forth through it in a suggestive manner.

Chuckling, the crimson-pelted canid shook his head. "I could only wish."

And that brought the sandy-furred vulpine back to full consciousness. "Wait a minute!" He snapped as he turned his attention up to his partner-in-law-bending. "What do you mean she's not your girlfriend!?" The desert fox practically shouted, getting a weird look from Nick and Benji.

Although in Wild's case, it was more of a smirk. "You mean to tell me you still believed that?"

"You two never denied anything!" Finnick practically barked out.

The pawpsicle hustler couldn't help but chuckle at the fit his little pal was throwing over this. "Oh this is rich..." he shook his head good-naturedly before replying, "Nah! We were just teasing you at the time..." a mischievous gleam came to his eyes. "But you do know _wha_ t this means, my dear Finnick?"

Looking up at the taller vulpine, the fennec queried, "What, Wilde?" He narrowed his eyes and added, "And don't call me dear!"

"You got hustled, big guy..." the smile on the male red fox's face became absolutely devious. "You got hustled by a police officer..."

The desert fox twitched. "She... you mean she..." he trailed off, unable to say it.

"She hustled you," Nick repeated teasingly. "And boy, she hustled you **GOOD**!" He barked out with laughter, despite how his tiny partner began to fume in agitation.

Benji covered his mouth, trying not to laugh and hurt his tiny pal's feelings. This was too rich, someone out-foxing a fox!? That was crazy! Okay, granted, it was another fox but it was rare to see them get one in over each other.

Twitching most irritably as his impressive ears flattened back, all Finnick could do was threaten his taller partner. "I swear to God, Nick... the boot will be on the other foot one day. And when it is I am _**SO**_ going to laugh my tail off at your misfortune."

The taller of the two vulpines snorted. "Yeah, right! Like _THAT_ is ever going to happen," he replied with a teasing smirk. The male red fox then brought his hands up to his chest, taking a moment to straighten out his tie. "Trust me, litt— **big** buddy," he quickly corrected as to not set off the fennec beyond control. "No mammal is getting one over on Slick Nick!"

"What's this about someone getting something over on you?" Came the familiar voice of the vixen. All three men looked up... and their jaws dropped so far they practically hit the floor.

Starting from the bottom and going it, the boots she wore were _**NOT**_ what the woman had signed off the paperwork for. Oh no, instead of the black soft Kevlar with open toes for better traction, these were steel-toed brown leather, laced up her shins; the material going high enough that it fed to the metal knee-guards of the ZPD uniform. There was no doubt the lower set of steel caps that adorned the woman's feet had probably been used judiciously on several perpetrators in the past, as when inspected up close, one could make out several deformities in their shape, as if they had impacted something with incredible force.

Above that, was a standard-issue police uniform of pants, utility belt, and shirt—the only things she wore that were from the ZPD's standard outfit.

Her bracer-style gloves, while ZPD-issued _were_ a special order set. They had several bars of metal along the wrist, as when an officer of the law as small as a fox was in an altercation with a much larger mammal, steel was but a logical defense option for dealing with sharp teeth and a jaw's considerable bite strength.

Finally, there was her bullet-proof vest—noted for its defective measurements by the armory and had been waiting for return to the production facility, looked as though it had been specially made for her admittedly... unique frame. It was sturdy protection and comfortable enough to be worn in her daily life on the force, without appearing bulky. It was topped off with the golden and blue-accented badge of the ZPD in place over her left breast thanks to a specially molded slot in the surface of the armor.

Overall, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox looked the part to play one of Zootopia's civil servants. Ready to protect and serve the good of the public trust...

She just wished someone would have told her that immediately instead of keeping her in the dark. "Well?" The Hispanic vulpine chirruped as everyone just stared at her in complete silence once more. "How do I look?"

The rather portly cheetah recovered first and clapped his hands together, smiling as wide as he could while practically bouncing up to his feet to praise her. "You look SO good! Why, you fill that out better than any officer I've seen to date! And believe me, I've seen a lot of them." He leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "Between you and me, though, the Police Chief has all of us beat when it comes to wearing the Kevlar vests."

His ears twitching for a moment as he strained to hear what his friend was whispering to the lovely Latina, Nick couldn't help but let off a snort in response. "Yeah, but what can you expect from a slab of beef that solid?" He whispered under his breath before speaking aloud, "Carmelita you look astounding! Like a real, honest-to-goodness member of the police force."

Placing her hands on her hips, the vixen frowned as she looked towards her fellow red fox. "Oh?" She chirruped, a note of curiosity to her voice. "And what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Wilde?"

Smirking deviously, the pawpsicle hustler couldn't help but tell her, "While this may be crass, I'll put it bluntly: mammals are going to shit themselves when they see a fox in uniform." Particularly one as battle-ready as the vixen's was.

Returning the smile, Carmelita gave a firm nod of her head. "That's the idea, Nick. That's the idea..."

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 **Author's Notes** : Hello and back again from the two week hiatus. Hope you all missed this series while I was busy busting my back with landscaping and carpentry; even I need to make money. Still, I did my best to make this update a lengthy chapter again.

While I was gone I had received some questions from Cerberusx in the reviews section... and honestly they're good ones, so I'll leave the answers under this chapter's notes.

The year the story takes place is 2014, chosen because that was the date halfway into Zootopia's production cycle, when the production staff started to come out of a darker story and into a much more light-hearted one. The collars officially came off in 1988

All ages are still canon to the characters.

Nick is 32, meaning he would have been born in 1982 in this and six-years-old when the shock collars came off.

Finnick is 33 so he would have been born in 1981... and lived another year in a collar. Enough to temper him and make him an ornery little cuss with a chip on his shoulder.

Honey is 45, meaning she was born in 1968. Yes, she's only thirteen years Nick's senior. She and her husband met the Fox family when she and Harold were getting married; she was a young bride at eighteen when Nick was only a wee five-year-old. I will get into the story later but I'll give an idea of what went wrong in her life. The shock collars didn't come off soon enough.

Carmelita is the youngest of the set at 29 and would have been born in 1985. The Sly Cooper games take place over the course of eight years and Carmelita is listed as 21 in the first game. Do note that besides the fourth game which is treated possibly as days or weeks, the first three give the impression of taking MONTHS if not a full year in their timeline and the sequels even mention the passing of years in between each game. Anyway, here is a breakdown of how I would line up the Sly series using 2014 as the "Today" date.

Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus : 2006 – 2007

Two year lull of lesser crimes : 2007 – 2009

Sly 2: Band of Thieves : 2009 – 2010

Sly 3: Honor Among Thieves : 2010 – 2011

Three years "amnesia" and Sargent Cooper : 2011 – 2014

Sly 4: Thieves in Time : 2014

And for those curious, Sly would be 26, meaning he would have been born in 1988. He was listed as 18 in the first game and so would be 26-years-old by the time "Thieves in Time" and this story would've rolled round.

Fun fact: to get them to the ages of 18 and 21, Sucker Punch had officially listed Carmelita and Sly as being born in 1981 and 1984 respectively. I just had to move their birthdates back to reflect the modern day setting of the story because even though dates are given, the passage of time in Sly Cooper doesn't reflect actual dates.

As for Finnick's girlfriend Cherry... well, you'll see. I need to keep _some_ surprises.

And a final note: if any of my readers leaves me questions in the reviews, I will be glad to tackle them in the Author's Notes.


	7. I am the Law

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 7: I am the Law 

In the kitchen on the second floor of a small brownstone townhouse that served both as home and business for a small family of foxes in Happytown District of Zootopia. The trio of vulpines was gathered around the eating and cooking area, dressed in their Sunday best and reveling in the wind-down of the day. Despite the rather poor conditions, the tenants were a happy lot. After all, it was a great time for a predator to be alive! If the news was correct, the collars they were forced to wear were but months away from coming off and for the first time, the carnivores of the city-state had hope for their future. Although for most it was the promise of a better tomorrow for their children but for them that was enough.

Father and son were still settled at the kitchen table, the larger and–surprisingly–broad-chested adult as spending the evening regaling his son about his time in the armed forces, the boy hanging onto his every word. "I tell you, Nicky, Sinai was QUITE the place... they stationed me there in September of '80 as part of, "Operation Bright Star". So quiet and serene... there weren't even that many locals to interact with during the day... but I tell you those nights were beautiful. I'm sure our mission was named such because of religious connotation but when we were out there? You could see ALL the night sky, all the _stars_..." he waved his hand about in the air, trying to give his son the impression of the great expanse that he once beheld. Then after a moment, he added, "Although you had to be bundled up if you were going to be outside when the sun went down. Despite us being stationed in a desert, it would get colder than a bitch's tit!"

The lithely built and very feminine vixen who had been standing by the kitchen sink and working hard washing the dishes from dinner with her hands adorned in yellow latex gloves–despite being decked out in blue dress and pearls–turned her head to look over her left shoulder at her husband. "John!" She snapped at the male red fox. "Mind your language in front of our son!" She pouted at the male vulpine when he just chuckled in response. She didn't want her boy picking up any of that, 'sailor talk'.

Even as his wife gave him a meaningful glare, the male red fox continued. "Anyway, I was there thanks to 1979 Peace Treaty President Sadat signed with Israel in exchange for reptilian troop withdrawal from Sinai... unfortunately for them, making peace with someone considered, 'the enemy' led to Egypt's expulsion from the Arab League. That meant while they didn't have the reptiles in their borders, they had **no** protection from their former allies either! That meant we, thanks to the Camp David peace accords, had to be there four months to train the Egyptians into an armed defense force... I tell you, it went a lot smoother than we expected. The local mau cats and jackals were rather enamored with us: we were the first U.S. military forces in the region since Zoo War II and they thought we were the greatest thing since sliced bread!" He smiled wide as he thought back on his times in the service. "I tell you, Nicky, I thought being able to work without a collar was good enough but it was really nice to be appreciated... especially by the females..." he wagged his thick black eyebrows at his son meaningfully.

The boy blinked his big and rounded bright green eyes a couple of times in curiosity. "Really, Pa?" He chirruped. "How were the ladies appreciative? Did they make you and all the other guys breakfast?" Nick loved when mom would get up early to make them a nice meal for breakfast to start the day off right. She made the best blueberry cobbler in the _whole_ _ **world**_!

John began to open his mouth... only to clamp it shut with an audible click as he could see–and practically feel–his wife glaring daggers at him. A rather mischievous grin crossed his muzzle as he began lying expertly through his teeth like foxes were stereotyped for in reply, "Yes son. Every morning, someone was getting breakfast from the locals." Particularly from this one rather busty Egyptian mau but he wasn't about to tempt fate or the wrath of his wife...

...Didn't mean he couldn't needle the latter though!

"Still though," John began anew, steering the conversation away to another subject. "I wasn't one who went to the local ladies for sex~ **onds** at mealtime," he quickly corrected himself. "Oh no, I was saving myself for when I got home. More than anything, I knew that Francine was the woman for me..." he puffed his chest out as he inhaled deeply. "More often than not, my thoughts would go to your mother, wondering how she was feeling, what she was getting up to, if she had moved on without me around. It made it difficult to even think about enjoying any of the offered... pie..." he finished rather lamely, although he was still gazing towards the love of his life with an affectionate gaze even as he did so. "It was like she was tugging on the red string of fate, reminding me to come home for dinner rather than seek out exotic delicacies."

The fox kit blinked his eyes in surprise at that. "A red string?" He chirruped in confusion. "How did it reach across the ocean? Was it like, a super-long string?"

Coming to a stop while scrubbing one of the plates, Francine couldn't help but roll her eyes in a good-natured fashion. At least her husband was _trying_ to keep things clean for their son's sake, even if all that did was confuse the poor cub. "The red string of fate," she spoke up, offering her spouse and her son a warm smile as she got their attention. "That's just an old wives' tale, like how foxes scream their mate's name upon finding them. Don't take your father too seriously, Nick. Your dad's just a hopeless romantic at heart." She let off a soft chuckle before turning her attention back to the dishes.

The adult male fox raised an eyebrow at his wife's comment. "Oh? I'm the hopeless romantic, am I?" He leaned over the table, turning his attention back to his son, almost in a conspiratorial manner. "Nicky, let me tell you about the time I finally returned home from the service." His shifty eyes turned towards the direction of his lovely lady's backside. "And it was at the docks where I reunited with a girl I knew from high school..." he said, rather meaningfully, waiting for his wife's reaction.

She didn't disappoint. The vixen's eyes snapped wide open and she practically dropped the plate back into the sink. "Oh Johnny," she began firmly as she turned about to give her husband a firm stare. "Don't tell him _that_ story!" The warning tone to her voice let her husband know that she meant business if he began to squeal. She knew how excited both of them could get and... well, she didn't want to scare Nick if they ended up setting off these damnable devices latched around their necks in front of him.

She _really_ should've known better than to tempt a fellow fox like that. Turning his attention back to his son, John continued, "Mind you, we only knew each other briefly before that. She turned me down in our last year because, and I **quote** : 'There's something unnatural about a vegetarian fox'." A small spread across the man's muzzle. "But that day, in front of all those mammals, there came a shriek from behind me!" The vulpine inhaled deeply as he bent his arms up so that his hands were at either side of his head, the male fox's eyes wide as he let off a shrill cry of, " _JOHNNY!_ " He began waving his paws for added effect, reveling in the laughter he elicited from his son.

The woman standing by the sink blushed so brightly that it managed to blaze through the natural crimson of her pelt, lighting her up like a Christmas tree. " _JOHNNY!_ " The woman shrieked in embarrassment as the green light on her collar turned yellow in warning. " _SHUT UP!_ " She begged him as she turned about fully from her chores to the love of her life who so _**loved**_ to tease her whenever he could.

The man's grin became a rather toothy one. "Yeah!" He chimed out as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. "Exactly like that!" He began to walk towards his wife, the woman bringing her gloved hands up to try and cover her face to hide her blush, knowing his close presence was just making it worse for the woman... and he knew _both of them_ were loving every minute of it!

It took a bit, but the young fox cub was able to get over his fit of giggles. "That is so embarrassing!" He squeaked out, looking at his mother who was shaking her head rapidly as she tried to hide behind an expanse of yellow latex as she repeated, 'oh my goodness' over and over again. His attention going to his father, young Nicholas asked, "What did you do, Pa?" 

Shrugging his shoulders, the man adopted an expression of utter confusion. "Why, what else was a gentlemammal like myself _to do_?" He shot back at his own boy. He allowed his son to mull over it for a moment before the uncertainty that had marred his expression broke out into a mischievous smile. "I ran up to her and I said..." John then turned about to his wife, arms reaching out to his sides. He then blurted out his own cry of, " _FRANKIE!_ "

"Oh my goodness!" Francine squealed in utter humiliation as her husband embraced her tightly suddenly, the woman hugging back even as she tried to hide her face in the crook of his neck where the right side of his neck met his shoulder.

"Then I picked her up like this," he said mischievously, getting a startled cry out of his wife as he lifted her off her feet and held her bridal-style. "And it was then I realized I would never put her down." He craned his head forward, giving his fretful wife a kiss on the cheek before turning his attention back to their child. "And you were born the next Spring," he told Nick, unable to resist getting in that one last mischievous zing. 

The poor vixen's blush went absolutely nuclear as her collar started beeping, letting her know if she didn't calm down, she was getting an electric shock. "That was the line and you just crossed it!" She squeaked as she leaned forward in his arms, both to simultaneously hug him around the neck for being a sentimental love and strangle him. "Shut up, Johnny! Shut up!" She begged her husband, afraid of what terrible ideas they were likely filling their poor, innocent and impressionable five-year-old son with... as well as trying to calm herself down before she set off her collar.

Laughing even as his wife attempted to get a stranglehold on him, the buff red fox with slicked back haired turned his head to face back towards his boy, even as his woman continued to try and wallop him playfully with her bright yellow latex-gloved fists. "Nick," he said his son's name firmly to make sure the young fox was paying attention. "You are going to be _one_ **lucky** fox if you ever get to love a vixen as much as I love your mother."

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The male red fox's emerald eyes slowly opened as an immense feeling of sadness filled him. Slowly but surely, his natural night-vision began to adjust offering him clarity of sight in the softly illuminated room. As unknown surroundings began to take shape, the phantom feelings of grief that echoed in the back of the vulpine's mind were immediately replaced by surprise. Even his sensation of touch was alerting the fox he was atop of and surrounded by things that, while soft, were unfamiliar. His body began fighting at his bindings without the fox needing the think, his ingrained fight or flight response kicking into high-gear, demanding he get away from whatever was going on!

However, the moment of wariness came to a halt almost as immediately as it began when realization came to the pawpsicle hustler, understanding hitting him harder than a freight train on the Zootopia's closed subway line. The nice soft 'bed' was actually Clawhauser's couch with one of the sofa's throw-pillows and a spare blanket finishing off the sleeping space... ironically, one of the nicest he'd had to rest on in **years**. _That's right_ , Wilde realized with growing relief. _I had taken Benji up on his offer_. And in doing so, he would be staying with the policeman for at least the next two weeks, the feline's living room becoming an impromptu bedroom for the fox.

 _Guy's really too nice for his own good_ , the vulpine thought as he closed his eyes again, pulling the blanket around himself once more. _Hasn't seen or talked to me in practically a decade and he's willing to practically give me the shirt off his back_. Really, such generosity and altruism was practically unheard of in the canid's long and sordid career. And yet Wilde understood that perhaps that was why the chubby feline was able to successfully become a cop. He really took the whole motto of, 'To Protect and Serve' to the logical extreme.

The red fox rolled over so that he was facing the couch's backrest. _Then again_ , Nick began to think. _He's also been one of the most naïve animals I know_. It was one thing to be compassionate... but a whole other to be taken for everything one had. Not that the vulpine would ever do anything like that to spotted feline, far from it! Benjamin, Fennick, and the red fox himself were like the three amigos! They had worked hard together at Chez Cheeze's during high school, sacrificing blood, sweat, and tears to earn their minimum wage paychecks signed off by their figurative **and** literal rat bastard of a boss. They had suffered for the almighty dollar together and by whatever God was up there, such was a bond that would not be broken!

If anything, that was probably why Nick felt guilty crashing at the cheetah's place. He felt he owed the guy even if the portly policeman insisted he didn't. The simple fact Benji wanted **nothing** in return for going out of his way to aid an old friend in need was just _foreign_. It seemed outright wrong to the scam artist vulpine that his feline pal would do all this without _any_ compensation. The mystery of it all was enough to keep him up at night...

 _And I would_ _ **much**_ _prefer that keeping me up than my memories_ , was the sentiment that went through the back of the canid conman's mind, the unwanted train of thought making his emerald eyes snap open once more in a fully alert state of being. Nick understood his thoughts had initially gone to Benjamin's situation on reflex. It was almost a defense mechanism to keep from thinking about times long since passed. "You can't go home again," the red fox softly told himself aloud as he pulled the blanket over his head, not wanting to face reality at the moment... the reality that he would never see his father again, even if he wanted to.

He couldn't help it. As much as Nick practically lived by the promise of, 'never let anyone see they got to him' he made that night long ago outside of the headquarters for Zootopia Junior Ranger's Troop 914, it was in his quiet alone moments that everything seemed to break down. When traitorous thoughts that perhaps he'd been wasting his life would pop into his head and taunt him with the possibility that perhaps he could move beyond being something besides shifty and untrustworthy...

...Like Carmelita.

"...Ah hell..." the vulpine murmured from underneath the blanket he was using to try and hide away from the rest of the world. "Damn it, Nicholas Piberius Wilde," he cursed himself aloud. "Don't do this to yourself. So what if you're a fox? You are the result of four-billion years of evolutionary success! So fucking act like it!" He threw the top half of the blanket down over his legs, exposing his chest before he sat up on the couch. "If you're damn good at what God designed you for, then take pride!" He shouted to himself as he pulled his legs out from underneath the covers and threw them over the side of the couch so he was facing the television set. His gaze lowering to the coffee table between him and the big screen TV, the vulpine reached forward and lifted his cell phone off the piece of furniture.

He winced as he realized it was only seven minutes after four in the morning. "Whelp... so much for sleeping tonight," he murmured in annoyance. He had already made plans to be up early for Carmelita, that he and Finnick would get breakfast ready for her and drive her into town her first morning on the job... and that would be in two hours or so. Not enough time to relax and get back to sleep.

Sitting there in the darkness with his eyes drawn to his phone, Nick decided if he had to suffer through this, he wasn't doing it alone. So quickly bringing up his contact list, he pressed the screen atop of the name Finnick and brought the phone to the side of his head, listening to the ringing of the phone. One chime, two chimes, a third, a fourth. "Come on, come on..." he murmured under his breath as he began to shake his left leg, the red fox smacking his heel against the front of the couch in a rhythmic pattern. "Pick up the damn phone, big guy..."

Finally, just as it got to the eleventh ring, the line picked up. The vulpine felt relief as the very groggy baritone voice that he recognized as his partner's came over the line. " _Wilde... I swear to God almighty! If this is a social call, I am going to_ _ **stab**_ _you when I see you next. I am going to stab you and I don't think I'll be able to_ _ **stop**_ _!_ "

Before Nick could offer an excuse in his defense, he was surprised when he heard a female voice pipe up on the line. " _Now Finnick_ ," the tired but still melodious voice chimed sweetly. " _It's not nice to threaten people. For one thing, it's not good for your blood pressure_."

The male red fox blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "Is... is that Cherry?"

" _And besides, this isn't worth getting upset. I mean, this_ _ **is**_ _Nick we're talking about_." The lovely feminine voice continued. " _He can't help that he's so needy and pathetic_."

Wilde's ear's flattened back against his skull as his eyes narrowed in irritation as the vixen blew him off as a lost cause. Darn Modern Literature Majors thought they knew everything. "Hi, Cherry..." he greeted with a slight tone of annoyance but otherwise held his tongue. A difficult task considering he was already on edge from that haunting memory that plagued his sleep. "I take it Finnick has the phone on speaker mode?"

" _Hi, Nick_ ," the voice replied sweetly before a yawn came over the line. " _I don't think my sweetie meant to. He just probably switched it on when he was reaching for his phone in his sleep_." A giggle sounded. " _But that's all right. We weren't asleep for long anyway_ ," she added with a husky tone of voice.

Despite the fact she'd insulted him unknowingly or not, the male vulpine couldn't help but let off a chuckle. "Really now?" He chirruped with a tone of interest. "So I take if you've been keeping my pal busy on a work night, have we?" He clucked his tongue in a playful manner. "Oh for shame, for shame... he knows we have to be up for work in a couple of hours."

" _Pshaw!_ " The female vulpine scoffed cutely over the line. " _My poor little Finnick-pooh has been so stressed out these days. You've been working so hard lately and he hasn't had a chance to unwind. Moving your furniture, sending him to a police station... and you never gave him his dues_ ," she chided in a surprisingly gentle tone. " _You really need to be kinder to him, Nicholas or else Finnick might just pick up and find another line of work_."

A small laugh sounded from the red fox's throat. "Yeah. Perhaps I do..." he replied softly as he brought his left hand up to the other side of his face, idly scratching at his head. "Listen, Cherry? Can you tell Finnick to turn his phone back to its regular settings? No offense to you but I really want to speak to him about private matters."

" _Oh sure!_ " She chirruped. " _Finny-pooh, if you'd be a dear and help your friend with whatever drama he has going on? We can snuggle up after!_ "

Nick twitched. Either that Arctic vixen was innocently insensitive or she was secretly brilliant and deliberately fucking with him in ways he couldn't prove without him seeming like the bad guy. "Thanks... that's appreciated."

Again, there came the sweet and innocent reply of, " _No problem, Nicky!_ " Really, with how jubilant the youngest of the triplets was, Wilde couldn't help but wonder if it was her real personality or if it was all an act as part of her job as a, 'Comfort Vixen'. She might have had family to rely on during tough times, but they were all foxes. They all faced the same sort of prejudices no matter where they lived in Zootopia and that could take its toll.

Finally, the voice of canid conman's partner came back on the line. " _Okay, I'm here, Wilde. Can we make this quick? I want to at least catch an hour while I can_ ," he said meaningfully.

"Sure, sure," Nick agreed. "I mean, Cherry said it all. Literally." Despite how he felt upon waking, a smile managed to make its way across his muzzle at the fennec's groan. "But besides a girlfriend keeping you up most of the night..." he trailed off, taking a moment to consider his words. Closing his eyes, he brought his left hand up to his head once more, this time rubbing the bridge of his snout. "I had that dream again."

There was silence over the phone for a moment. " _The night the cops took your dad away?_ "

The male vulpine couldn't help but flinch at that memory. "No, no... not that one," he replied honestly. "The one about... well... foxes' screams." He admitted.

"... _Nick_ ," the voice of the desert fox came over the phone firmly. " _You are getting stabbed. With a pencil, with a straw, a spoon, or whatever I can wield... one way or another you_ _ **are**_ _getting stabbed when I meet up with your pathetic ass tomorrow_."

Lowering his head, the vulpine sighed. "I'm serious, Finnick," he told his fellow fox firmly. "It... just remembering those times, I can't help but feel off my game, you know?" He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves and gather his wits before he continued speaking. "Makes me wonder if I did the right thing... reminds me that life could be so much better. That I once **tried** to make something of myself before I settled on being a shifty fox." Raising his head, the vulpine looked at the ceiling... and frowned as he noticed some unusual stains on the ceiling tiles. "Do you think maybe, and I mean just maybe I took on this gig with Carmelita because deep down, a part of me wants to be a better man?"

Silence was on the line for a moment, before he got the response of, " _Did you really call me at four in the Goddamn morning to tell me you're having a mid-life crisis!?_ " The male vulpine on the other end snapped irritably. " _Look, if you need help, call Vanilla–during waking hours! She's the one that majored in Psychotherapy, all right? I'm a mammal of action; the kind who leads instead of reads! Like that Jack Savage guy from the movies! You know, the spy series with all the neat gadgets, fast cars, and a new leading lady for him to bang every installment!_ "

Mentally comparing the fennec to the jack rabbit, the red fox had to nod his head in agreement with Finnick's assessment. "Lord knows your ears are big enough to pass for Jack Savage," Nick muttered under his breath before he began speaking aloud once more. "Yeah, I get you. I just figure out of anyone, you're the one who's been there for me the longest. That out of any mammal, you would perhaps have the best insight to the sort of person I am. So tell me... am I overthinking this? Am I just getting caught up in feelings over my folks that it's causing me to take my eyes off the prize?"

" _Wilde_ ," the voice on the phone chirruped. " _If it helps, I'll give you a much needed bitch-slap in place of a stabbing when I see you again_." The offer was completely genuine. After all, who wouldn't want to give Nicholas Wilde a firm smack across the face when he got like this? " _That'll set your bitch-ass back on the straight and narrow again. The road to CASH!_ "

Taking a deep breath, the red fox let off a wistful sigh. "I don't know pal. Sometimes... I just wonder if I couldn't do something better with myself." The canid shook his head. "I've been doing what I have for so long that I don't really, 'think' about it anymore. But when I do, it hits me like an oncoming freight train. Eversince I met Carmelita..." he trailed off for a moment, bringing his left paw to the side of his head once more to rub at his temple. "It makes me think that maybe, just maybe... I could do something better with my life _too_." He growled in annoyance. "I just don't think I can be happy _**just**_ running scams for the rest of my life! _I want_ _ **more**_ _than money_!"

It was a tone of annoyance which the other vulpine picked up on... and lord almighty, it served to open the floodgates. " _Oh for the love of Christ! For people like us, there is_ _ **nothing**_ _more than the money!_ " The fennec snapped irritably. " _Look I admit that I'm the luckiest man to have found and hooked up with Cherry! She's the best thing in my life! But you have to look no further than her and her sisters! Nick, they are in a similar situation to us! All three are graduates, in higher education even! And what happened? No one will hire 'em because they're foxes! And it doesn't matter if they can't get a job in their chosen fields because those damn student loans sure as hell ain't going away! They realize they gotta do what they gotta do. And_ _ **YOU**_ _gotta do what you gotta do! So stop acting like a little bitch and_ _ **MAN THE FUCK UP**_ _!_ "

Holding the phone away from his head as his semi-friend screamed over the line, Nick had to blink his eyes a couple of time. Once the ringing in his ear finally teetered off as his hearing returned proper, the vulpine in his underwear pouted as he resettled himself on the couch cushion. "Listen, I am many things but I am not a bitch," Nick told his partner in all seriousness.

A laugh barked out over the phone. " _Oh please! If it mopes like a bitch, whines like a bitch, and wakes me up a couple of hours before I HAVE to be up and ruins my sleep, then it–i.e. YOU–is a bitch,_ _ **BITCH**_ _!_ "

Nick twitched, several times before releasing a tired sigh. "You know what? Fine! Whatever!" He really didn't want to deal with his friend's complaining right now. Sure, he needed a distraction but this wasn't necessarily a welcome one. "Listen, it's just... I don't know... life just catches up to you sometimes... and it makes you wonder."

" _Oh wah, wah, wa~aaaahh!_ " The desert fox mock wept. " _You couldn't have waited until I was up to whine about this stuff? I mean, Jesus! You're the one who offered all our free time to the cop! I mean for good money certainly, but now my ME-time is at a premium! That includes sleep!_ "

"No... no I couldn't," the male vulpine replied as he held the phone to the side of his head again. "Look, sorry for interrupting you. It's just... you know. Things happen and it gets a person thinking. Makes a man question his place in the food-chain."

" _And that is your problem, Nicky! You're thinking! You shouldn't be thinking. Thinking only leads to trouble for people like us. We think we can do better, that we deserve better and you know what happens?_ " He paused, allowing the other vulpine a moment to ponder that. " _Well, I'll tell you, in case you either forgot or, as Cherry suggested, are willfully suppressing the memories of: it kicks us in the tail! Even if we try, it just pisses off everyone else and puts an immediate target on us! Better to just be ignored than actively despised. You make the best of what you got and we have been making it_ _ **great**_ _!"_

The red fox sighed. It was true. He had to put up with a lot of that. The crimson-pelted vulpine could remember a time he wanted to open up an amusement park of all things, to try and bring some color and happiness to the dark and dreary Downtown District. The canid hustler had visited all the banks in Zootopia to get a loan... only to have each and every one turn him down. Leaning back against the couch, the man nodded slowly in bitter acceptance. "Yeah... you're right. I just wish there was a better way to do this on the up and up."

There was silence on the other end again, the petite vulpine obviously considering things. " _Look, we're lucky we can take it easy with Miss Fox for a while but don't get cozy_ ," Finnick told his partner in a warning tone. " _Just because we have her here now doesn't mean Miss Fox will be around forever. The woman told us herself that she's going to be here for how long now? Six, maybe seven months?_ " He snorted. " _And then she'll be gone and it will back to business as usual. So keep a stiff upper-lip, Wilde and don't let yourself go soft in the interim. We got business to make happen and money to earn_."

"Well then, we'll have to make sure we get enough while we work for her then so we have an easy transition back to being our usual, miserable selves," the red fox male commented as he brought his hand up to his face and used his fingers to rub the sleep out of his eyes completely. There was no way he was getting back to bed after this.

" _Darn right!_ _Besides that, we_ _ **still**_ _have to be careful around Carmelita. She may be a fellow fox–and a most lovely vixen at that!_ " The fennec was more than willing to admit. " _But at the end of the day, she's nothing more than a tool of the people who've been keeping us down_."

Nick snorted at that. "Oh please! Let's be honest here, big guy! If anything, Officer Fox would use **them** as a tool!"

That actually managed to get a snicker out of the desert fox. " _You might have a point there, Wilde. She may be working for the man but Carmelita is still a_ _ **fox**_ _. She can twist those idiots around her fingers with sultry feminine wiles. I know from personal experience just how effective they are thanks to my sweet Cherry here... sweet Cherry pie..._ "

A feminine giggle managed to sound out over the line, making Nick smirk again. It was amazing how there never seemed to be a middle ground with his tiny vulpine partner in underhanded business practices. Finnick was either on one end the emotional extreme or the other at any given point. "Thanks for the pep talk, buddy. It's appreciated."

" _Right_ ," the desert fox chirruped in his usual baritone. " _And for services rendered, that'll be a five-percent extra cut of tomorrow's profits or I get to stab you... really, don't matter to me which you go with. I'll get satisfaction either way!_ "

The red fox frowned. "Zerdan..." he growled out his petite friend's family name. He was getting tired of threats to both body and finance.

The fennec was quick to response with, " _Don't give me that tone, Wilde! A guy's gotta eat and support a fine and loving piece of white fluffy tail_."

Realizing that his buddy wanted the extra cash for his lady always took a lot of wind out of the male red fox's sails. He couldn't blame Finnick for wanting to treat Cherry right... even if she did seem to have it out for Nick himself. "Fine, fine..." the crimson-pelted canid grumbled. "You'll get your extra five-percent." Anything to get his somewhat-friend to stop bugging him was a win in his book.

" _Excellent!_ " The fennec chirruped excitedly in victory. " _Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make the best of the next two hours with Cherry. You enraging me got my blood pumping... and fortunately it's pumping to_ _ **ALL**_ _the right places..."_ he chuckled deviously as again, Cherry's giggle also sounded off over the line.

The pawpsicle hustler nodded his head in acceptance. It looked like the little guy won this round. Still, that didn't mean the male red fox couldn't get the last laugh. "Whatever you say! Have a good night... _**little buddy**_." Before Finnick could go on a tirade, the crimson-pelted canid slid his thumb over the screen, cutting off the connection before he lowered his phone back to the coffee table. The male vulpine let off a depressed sigh before muttering under his breath, "Well that certainly could have gone better..."

"Maybe," the familiar voice of Clawhauser spoke up from behind him in agreement. "So what's this about bad dreams?"

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Nick cried out in surprised as he jumped–quite impressively considering he was in a sitting position–up to the ceiling and grabbed on...

...Or rather tried to, since ceiling didn't have much in the way of a grip-friendly surface, the small vulpine quickly found himself crashing back the floor. As he laid on the hardwood floor just outside the border of the fluffy carpet, the canid twitched. "...Owwies..."

"Awww... sorry about that, little guy," the chubby cheetah said as he came around into the downed fox's line of sight, allowing Nick to see the larger feline was decked out in a pink t-shirt that didn't have enough material to cover his stomach in full adorned with the image of a Gazelle headshot and a pair of white boxers with pink hearts that had the female singer's name on them. Kneeling down beside the twitching vulpine, the portly pred reached a hand to gently grasp the red fox's shoulder to move him to a sitting position. "I thought I heard you talking and I came out to see what the matter was." He frowned slightly. "So... Carmelita's leaving you all confused, huh?"

That last comment caught the smaller predator's attention; his pointed ears rising up suddenly. "Eh?" Was the only response Nick could manage for a moment as he blinked his eyes in confusion before going immediately into denial. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

Seeing his fellow mammal try to lock down his emotions, the spotted wildcat let off a sigh, causing his chest to visibly rise and fall–as well as pull his shirt up further along his extended stomach before it settled back down over his belly button again. "Nick, I'm not going to pretend I know what your life is like but I'm going to guess it's been rather... shady..." he admitted softly. "Just remember. Carmelita is here to help push the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. It's supposed to open up avenues in life once barred for the smaller and unwanted mammals, be they prey or predator. That **does** include you. If you decided you want to turn your life around and make something more, there's no shame in it..." he chuckled softly as he shook his head. "I know, I know... it might seem hypocritical coming from me but I understand better than anyone how difficult it can be. Why do you think I'm so fat?"

"Too many jelly donuts?" Nick snarkily replied, getting a laugh from the both of them.

Nodding his head, the spotted feline took a moment to get over his laughter before answering, "That's the physical reason, sure... but do you know why I indulge so much?" He still smiled, although it seemed to lessen in its intensity. "Because I'm not much different from you, Nick. We're the last of a generation who understands. The beginning of our lives was in a collar and then we had to adapt to being out of it. I was never able to get over the advice my first boss ever gave me. Do you remember what it was?"

Considering that for a moment, the crimson-pelted canid could only frown. "I can remember no advice but that he was always threatening to fire you because, 'you scare the customers' and..." his eyes widened in realization. "The only cat they're not afraid of is an overweight housecat."

Again, Benjamin nodded his head. "I stuck to a heavy cheese diet while I was working there. It helped me gain a 'pleasantly plump' build..." the feline explained. "Even when I moved on to bigger and better things, I wasn't able to really stop. Because the animals around me felt better as I was fat. Oh sure, lions are seen as noble and just. Tigers are exotic and majestic. Cheetahs? We're cast in the public mind as speed freaks. And if I can't run, then I'm not seen as a threat and everyone else can relax." He sighed as he moved to sit on the couch. "Admit it, Nick. Even you feel calmer around me because in the back of your mind, your instincts are telling you, 'I can outrun this lard-ass if I have to'..."

And just like that, Nick gave him a flat stare that bordered on being an angry glare. Closing his emerald eyes for a moment, the vulpine countered backwards from five before he spoke aloud. "Benji," he said his friend's nickname softly. "Just because you're fat doesn't mean you're slow. I'm betting that you could still outrun most everyone if you had to."

"And then I'd fall down flat from a heart-attack because I'm so out of shape," Clawhauser remarked, getting a nod of agreement from Nick.

"Really though, Benji," the red fox started to reply. "If you think that I'm relaxed around you because you're fat, then you're shallower than some of those idiot rabbits can be." Considering what he knew Carmelita went through because of them, that was saying something.

Turning his faze down towards the smaller predator, the pudgy policeman raised an eyebrow. "But are you relaxed?" Benjamin brought up once more.

"...Yes," Nick finally admitted after a moment. "Because you're my friend..." he said honestly. "Again, thank you for giving me a place to crash while I get my own affairs in order." He tilted his head to look back up at the larger predator. "And sorry to get you up so early... I didn't think my call would wake you." He chuckled apologetically. "I guess I was louder than I thought."

Waving off the tiny–in comparison–mammal's apology, the chubby cheetah cheerily chirruped, "Oh that's no problem, Nicholas! Tell you what though. Since we're both up this early, we might as well get dressed and I'll take you out to a nice breakfast. My treat!" He said as he pat his smaller friend on the shoulder. "I know the _**best**_ food truck for Pred food in the city! He sells the cheaper stuff like bugs and tofu but he makes excellent protein-packed fish and egg treats! There are just **SO MANY** breakfast sandwiches you can get there!"

Mulling over the offer for a moment, Wilde eventually shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. "Sure. Sounds good to me." It really did. After a rough night and an early wakeup, decent food and some coffee sounded perfect.

The pair chuckled as they went their separate ways; Clawhauser back to his room and Nick to his suitcase... if they had to be up this early they might as well get a good start. The vulpine was hopeful he would be energized when it came time to pick up Miss Fox and take her to that stupid press conference. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The vixen had to admit: Honey's home was a lot nicer than it appeared during her first inspection of the place. Sure, the style of the architecture and the furniture was rather dated and many of the rooms could use some serious sprucing up, but that didn't matter. More than anything, the woman needed a safe haven in Zootopia where she could get her bearings and figure things out for herself in peace. Sadly, the fact of the matter was that at the moment, Inspector Fox just couldn't focus on anything specifically as far too much had been going on lately. The situation her life had ended up with was definitely a trying one. She'd faced many trials and tribulations over her career, from chasing a well-known master thief for five years to being betrayed by corrupt Interpol officers to helping destroy an evil immortal owl– **twice** –to wining and dining that same master thief for another three years!

But oh, over the eight years of her life spent with Sly... those last three had been _**magnificent**_. The happiest in her life! Even if during the last six months the raccoon had held tightly onto some unspoken tension–unease which she now realized was him trying and failing to keep from back-sliding–it had still been a wonderful time and she wouldn't have traded it for the world.

However, nothing Carmelita had been through could have prepared her for turn their lives took. Sly possibly lost in time... and her unable to do anything but pass her days being a publicity stunt for a specist City-State while others did the work the vixen should have been doing herself.

Dropping a white towel the Latina beauty had been holding onto the bathroom floor, the vulpine policewoman stepped in the bathtub; her hand reaching for the dial in the wall and turning it. As the first drops of moisture hit her pelt, she couldn't help but remember how their last day together had gone, the memory vivid and clear to an almost haunting level. From the breakfast she made them, the kiss on the cheek Sly had given her, the mission rundown and prep work at both Interpol and the museum... catching him in the act and the feelings of betrayal that tore her heart to shreds before it burst forth into an inferno of pure, unadulterated rage.

Rage which made her careless... rage that got her captured and ejected to an era not her own, to where she was forced to be a damsel in distress on a runaway stagecoach as if she were starring in some bad Spaghetti Western flick! Fortunately, Sly and his gang–including his ancestor, Tennessee–had saved her but even after she teamed up with them once more in the Ice Age, she had spent the rest of their time while hopping between eras being petulant. The Hispanic red fox refused to hear the Ringtail's apologies or explanations out because of the hurt she felt and held onto. She stayed mad at him when they should have been spending that time figuring out how to save not only his family's legacy but their relationship!

And she wasted it.

Releasing a long-suffering sigh as the droplets of water began to heat up and form steam, the vixen stood there without moving at all. Instead, she could only focus on the voices chattering in the back of her mind, the memories of their past few months together. The remembered conversations that kept repeating the same words while imagery flashed before her eyes, over and over again, all of it clear as crystal.

No matter what angle the woman looked at it, she couldn't deny it. Yes, it was obvious that Sly **had** been lying to her... but his return to thieving had to do with stealing from Le Paradox who was **also** a thief. It was no wonder the raccoon had regressed to his old ways. He'd been fighting off and suffering through the temptation for a while. Suddenly having such an enticing target, one that was plainly visible from their Paris apartment for that last month must have driven him crazy. _And it's partly my fault it got that bad for him_ , Carmelita thought with growing despair. _I could see how much something was bothering him and instead of helping him, I went into denial! I tried to pretend nothing was wrong. If I just talked to him, none of this would have happened. We could have worked things out and I wouldn't be stuck out here in specist central while Cooper's out there with no way home_...

Shuddering, the Latina vulpine lowered her face as she moved closer towards the showerhead. Placing her hands against the wall, she propped herself up directly underneath the running faucet, putting as much of herself beneath the water as it pounded down in steaming droplets. Her soaked navy blue tresses started cascading at either side of her face as the stream of hot water collided with her furry body, easing the release of tension. Taking a deep breath, the woman closed her chocolate eyes and exhaled slowly as the flow of steamy water enveloped her body.

For a long while, Carmelita allowed the hot shower to soak into her fur, trying to lose herself to the slowly growing burning sensation that was building over her body. Finally, she straightened up to full height once more, her right hand reaching over to a small alcove in the wall, taking a bottle off the shelf within. Looking over the bottle of shampoo for a moment, the Latina beauty popped the top of the cap, the scent that came forth aromatic and fresh. Quite pleasing, actually.

Taking a large handful of the cleansing gel in her left palm, the vixen placed the bottle back onto its alcove. She rubbed her hands together, forming the liquid soap into a foamy lather before she worked the sudsy body wash gel into her fur, hoping to ease lingering pain that remained in her body. She needed to be at her best for this upcoming press conference and that included being alert and limber. The female red fox would be _damned_ if she gave Zootopia any more reasons to hate and distrust her. They already saw her as untrustworthy and shifty; Miss Fox certainly didn't want to give them reasons to add, 'lazy' to the list.

And that was when the door to the bathroom swung open; a certain Hawaiian shirt-clad vulpine's hand on the handle. "Hey, Carmelita, are you... in... here?" Nick trailed off, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull as he got a full look of Carmelita butt naked, water running down her fur. His emerald eyes couldn't help but take in every curve, every detail. The only thing that would have made it better was if she was more bent over. Still, he got a peek at the hidden goods between her legs... wouldn't have minded seeing more of her breasts as well either.

At hearing the male voice in the room with her, the woman's eyes snapped wide-open, the sudden burst of adrenaline immediately bursting through whatever lamentations her mind may have been processing. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde!" She snapped as she turned about, the woman pressing her legs together as her left arm was drawn over her breasts for decency. "What the hell? What the actual fucking hell!?" She snapped at him as her free arm grasped the edge of shower curtain and quickly drew the barrier closed. " **DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK!?** " She yelled at him, even as the steam that clung to the plastic curtain and made it partially transparent, allowing the male red fox to see a blurred visage of the vixen.

Having been thrown completely off-kilter by the beauteous visage before him, Nick stood there for several minutes, his face redder than his pelt as his blood was rushing everywhere **but** his brain during that time. Finally though, the woman screaming at the top of her lungs managed to jostle some sensibility into him; the male vulpine averting his gaze as he tried to explain himself. "Um... uh... I... did?" He finally managed to offer. "You just didn't... hear...?" It sounded more than a question than an answer but it was the best he could offer on such short notice.

"Hear what? Knocking?" She called out to him from behind the thin plastic barrier. "Honestly Nick, no. I did not. More importantly, what brings you here already? It's not that late is it?" She queried quite curiously, the Latina vixen frowning as she didn't have access to a watch or her phone. "What time is it anyway?"

"It's..." the male vulpine withdrew his phone from his pocket with his left hand. He squeezed the volume button on the side, causing the screen to flash back on. "It's just after six." He blinked his eyes as he returned his cell phone to his pants. "Why do you ask?"

Letting out a sigh, the woman replied, "I didn't expect you for another hour. Besides, how did you get in here anyway? I thought I locked the doors."

Once again, the canid conman's hand slid into his other pocket and brought up a key-ring, shaking his wrists to jingle and jangle the small metal pieces. "Keys. Remember?" Nick chirruped his answer as he also returned the keys to his pants. "I got a set too. Anyway," he coughed into his hand, wanting to change the subject and prolong his presence with the naked woman. "I just wanted you to know I brought you breakfast. It's downstairs in the kitchen with Finnick if you want to eat there with us..." he offered, still a little flush from the sight he was oh-so-desperately trying to burn into his mind.

The woman sighed. She couldn't fault him for wanting to be helpful. It's what she was paying him for. "I'm _so_ installing a buzzer for this room," Carmelita grumbled to herself. Taking a deep breath to calm her now frazzled nerves, she then responded aloud, "All right! Just give me about ten minutes to finish getting cleaned up. I'll be with you and Mr. Zerdan shortly!"

Nodding his head, the male vulpine started to turn about... but paused in his tracks. Despite his instincts telling him to get out, the fox couldn't help but press his luck. The opportunity was too good to pass up! "By the way, do you need a hand, Carm?" He chirruped sweetly. "I'm good with my hands! And only thirty bucks an hour too, as per our agreement!"

The artery on the left side of the vixen's head visibly throbbed through her pelt. " _ **Nick**_!" She snapped irritably. "Stop acting like a _horny cabrón_ and give a woman some privacy, _**will you**_!?" The vulpine practically shrieked at the top of her lungs, for the first time making Wilde witness to one of her key defining traits: her hot Latin temper.

And oh, she was _spicy_ today!

Realizing that yes, his luck had indeed met its limit, the male red fox nodded his head quickly in understanding. "Ah! Right then! I'll... um... I'll see you when you get out!" Nick replied as he quickly stumbled out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him. "Holy moley!" He gasped out breathlessly, knowing **exactly** what he was going to be dreaming about for days to come.

It sure as hell beat memories he fought so valiantly to suppress, that was for darn certain!

When no immediate verbal threat to his genitals came through the door, the crimson-pelted canid took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Oh be still, my beating heart..." the vulpine whispered before pushing away from the bathroom door. Walking through Honey's home, the vulpine male soon entered the kitchen where he caught sight of his partner in crime tearing into one of the breakfast burritos. "So, you like 'em, big guy?" He chimed merrily, not letting on just how hot and bothered the vixen got him.

The desert fox noisily chewed on a mouthful of scrambled eggs, sliced pieces of red and green peppers, and bits of tofu sausage crumbles as he tore into one of the delicious burritos. "Gotta say, Wilde..." he garbled out with a mouth full of cooked egg goodness. Swallowing the food, the smaller vulpine then chirruped in a far clearer tone, "The breakfast you had us pick up was excellent! How did you discover that place?"

Nick smile down at his partner. While he was usually one to revel in praise, he decided to give Benji his due. Who knew? It might help speed up the fennec's acceptance of the cheetah having become a cop. "That, my dear Zerdan, we have Clawhauser to thank for. He's the one who showed me that food truck!" They served decent coffee too! Not as good as Snarlbucks but it would certainly do in a pinch!

Nodding his head, the petite sandy-furred vulpine admitted, "He's got good taste." He took another bite of his meal before commenting, "By the way, I heard screaming. What did you do to piss her off, Wilde? You walk in on Miss Fox while she was dressing or something?"

A shit-eating grin spread across the red fox's muzzle in response. "Walked on her naked in the shower..." Nick muttered, as he turned to look away to hide the fact his face turning red from the image that flooded his mind yet again.

Dropping the uneaten half of his breakfast burrito onto the sheet of aluminum foil it had been wrapped with, the smaller vulpine's ears lowered to either side of his head as his eyes widened while the pupils dilated to the size of pin-pricks. "...No foolin'?" He queried with an incredulous tone as he looked at his fellow vulpine. Catching the sight of his partner's face managing to somehow go a brighter shade of red despite being crimson-furred, Finnick couldn't help but whistle. "Well... hot damn! Good on you, Wilde!" He chirruped with excitement. "Please tell me you were quick with your cell's camera and snapped a couple of pics?"

"I was too shocked to move..." the vulpine replied as visions of that perfect hourglass shape danced before his eyes. "Well, that and she may have killed me if I tried," the hustling red fox replied in a deadpan monotone as he made his way towards the seat opposite of the fennec.

Watching as his fellow vulpine made his way to the breakfast nook, the small predator sighed irritably. "Well, I can't say it's too much of a loss. I mean, I got a girl of my own anyway..." he trailed off as he gave the taller canid male a knowing smile. "I might not have gotten much sleep last night but she made _all_ my worries go away," he said meaningfully, letting Nick know that yes, because of him waking them up, the desert fox got laid **TWICE** that night.

Nodding his head in understanding as he reached for one of the tinfoil-wrapped breakfast items that _wasn't_ a burrito, the canid conman couldn't help but query, "I take it that is why I haven't found myself stabbed yet?"

"Well, that and the extra five-percent you're going to owe me for any of today's work," Finnick replied in a firm tone of voice that booked no room for argument before he went back to chewing on his own burrito. "Mmm... gotta admit, whoever made these scrambled eggs had the perfect mix of egg and cheese."

Opening his mouth and taking a rather large bite out of his bagel sandwich, Wilde nodded his head in agreement. The food _was_ pretty darn good. "This ain't bad either," he said around a mouthful of protein and carbs.

His gaze turning from his faux-Mexican breakfast, Finnick looked at the egg sandwich the other vulpine had gotten himself and raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't get a burrito too." He smirked deviously as he added, "I mean, you seem to be quite into Latin cuisine lately..."

Deciding to ignore the baiting for once, the taller vulpine shrugged his partner off. "I'm not really one for peppers," the vulpine admitted as he took another bite of his bagel sandwich. He chewed thoroughly, his maw snapping open and shut a few times before swallowing. The fox then continued with, "I was always more of a waffles and coffee guy." He couldn't help but smile mischievously. "The guy even told me if I come tomorrow, he'll bring his waffle iron so I can have that as the bread for my sandwich."

Looking towards his partner-in-law bending, the small desert predator raised an eyebrow as he gave him a speculative gaze. "Just be careful that the guy doesn't use the waffle iron on your face then," Finnick commented before taking another bite.

"What's this about waffles?" A feminine voice spoke up, both men turning to see the lovely vixen in that blue terrycloth bathrobe they saw her in yesterday... only now she was fresh from the shower. The garment clung closer to her body, doing little to hide her curves while her navy blue tresses were nearly flat against her skull, the curl and airiness to her hair currently subdued by all the moisture it contained...

To Nick, it was almost like he was witnessing the painting of the Birth of Venus! _Only live... and a fox..._

Usually Nicholas P. Wilde was much more articulate with his thoughts but this woman seemed to knock the common sense out of him and send the red fox's brain straight into the gutter with how badly dumbstruck he would get in her presence.

Never one to hesitate when it came to throwing someone under the bus–figuratively or literally–Finnick thumbed over at Nick with his right paw. "I was just telling him to watch out! I've heard stories of foxes who went to get waffles and ended up with their faces put in the iron when it was hot."

Taken aback by such a proclamation, Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice. "Seriously?"

The petite vulpine nodded his head. "Yeah... there are stories from back during the Fifties and Sixties about stuff like that happening." He frowned. "It's why if you saw a sign or anything that stated, 'Prey Only' you _**knew**_ to stay the fuck away! Back then, those Herbivores were crazy and the law let 'em be!" He said in all seriousness as he threw his arms up for emphasis.

Twitching a bit, the Hispanic vixen sighed as she got a nasty feeling one of Bentley's photos she'd yet to look at was an instance of just that. Shaking her head, the woman looked at the tinfoil wrapped items on the small table that jutted up between the pair of male foxes from the base of where they sat in the window space of the breakfast nook. "Is any of that for me?" She asked curiously. "And if they are... you didn't order burritos just because I'm Spanish, did you?"

The canid conman shook his head, pleased he could be honest with his fellow red fox. "No, I got them on good authority that they were pretty good," Nick promised the woman as he tilted his head towards her direction. "Besides, if you don't like them, I can give yours to Honey." He smirked. "But seriously: try it! The eggs are delicious!"

The vixen with brownish-orange fur blinked her eyes at how the tie-adorned vulpine praised them. "Really?" She piped up curiously, eyeing the oblong tinfoil-wrapped shapes.

"Oh yeah!" The male red fox chirruped as he gave the lovely vixen a firm nod of his head in positive affirmation. "I watched the guy make them! He used milk while he scrambled them in the skillet! Made them all light and airy!" He motioned over the wrapped burritos, putting emphasis on them. "Seriously, try one! The eggs taste absolutely **divine**!"

Nodding her head, the navy blue-tressed vixen leaned in and took hold of one of the foil-wrapped breakfast burritos. Tearing open the aluminum, she brought one end of the sandwich to mouth and opened wide before clamping her jaws down with a firm bite.

Carmelita's chocolate-colored eyes widened in shock at the onslaught of flavor that assaulted her taste-buds. That was one thing she had to give Zootopia. A lot of the attitudes may have been rather tasteless but the culinary skill of some of these mammals was absolutely _**masterful**_! She thought only Paris had chefs that could coax tastes and textures out of food to this level! "Dulce Jesús, es perfecto!" She praised in her native tongue before taking another large bite, her cheeks practically puffed up with the goodness of eggs and flavorful spices.

Finnick stared at her for a moment before shook shaking his head. "Should be a crime..." he muttered, mentally bemoaning fate. It just wasn't fair that someone who was that sexy could also be that cute!

...AND be a cop atop of it. It was as if life was mocking him!

A large smile blossomed on the pawpsicle hustler's face as he saw the woman enjoy her meal. "So... I take it I'm forgiven for disturbing your shower?" He chirruped merrily as his emerald eyes were drawn towards where the top of Miss Fox's robes where they had opened slightly, allowing the male vulpine a peek at her cleavage. He had yet to see a vixen anywhere near as busty as Carmelita and frankly, every little sight was a Godsend that made life a worth living just a little bit more.

Her chewing coming to an immediate stop, the policewoman gave him a dirty look. Swallowing her mouthful of breakfast burrito, the Hispanic vixen firmly answered, "Get a buzzer installed by the bathroom so that it doesn't happen again and I might think about it."

"...I'll take whatever forgiveness I can get," Nick replied, knowing it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission. With a way to appease the woman at hand, the vulpine turned his attention back to more pressing matters: his own breakfast! With his bagel sandwich in hand, he began wolfing it down, despite being a fox. Smacking his lips, the red fox took a moment to lick his fingers of the sweetness that glistened on them; his sandwich also had a dash of maple syrup to it. "I have to say, I wish I knew of this food truck earlier. I might just become a regular."

Carmelita nodded as she took another bite. "Agreed," she said as she continued to attack her burrito, chowing down on it bite after bite until all she had left was a lump of aluminum foil. "This was superb..." she said in all seriousness before offering her fellow red fox a grateful smile. "Thank you," the Latina vixen said honestly. "That should keep me going to lunch time. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to try and dry off a bit more before I get dressed."

As the pair watched her head out of the kitchen and off into further the building, the fennec rolled his burnt orange eyes. "How come you're the one who always gets thanked?" He asked in a huffed. "I'm the one who has to cart all your lazy butts back and forth around this city."

"Maybe because I found her first?" Nick offered, albeit he was only half-serious. As the small guy continued to gaze at him with that half-lidded stare of his, the taller canid offered, "I mean, if you found her first, maybe she'd be more inclined to thank you."

Finnick snorted. "Eh, whatever. When it comes down to it, I don't need any sympathy or gratitude. I got Cherry and she's more than enough sweetness in my life." He grinned almost deviously. "I tell you, Wilde... it's a shame you never landed Vanilla. I could tell the two of you had at least a little something going... too bad you had to screw things up with her."

Nicholas twitched. It didn't help that the eldest of the Arctic vixen trio was a Psychotherapy Major. Girl was always trying to, 'fix' him.

"Just like you did your first girl, Gwen," the desert fox chirruped.

The male fox's ears flattened back at the memories of his first ex. They had known each other back when they were kids, only for things to fall apart when the vixen let him know SHE preferred vixens as well! Really, considering how much of a tomboy she was, Nick should have seen it coming.

But the desert fox wasn't done yet. "...And there was Krystal... remember her?"

The taller vulpine shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "...She was just feeling blue; couldn't get over her first boyfriend..."

"...And Tammy..."

Nick tried to shrug that one off. "She was a bit of a gold digger and I wasn't making the kind of money she wanted."

Finnick wasn't letting up. "...And Marian..."

"To be fair, she was on a rebound like Krystal... only she went BACK to her first ex after," the male red fox said in his defense. A Robert something-or-other...

"...And Tika..."

That made the poor crimson-pelted canid twitch. Okay, the little shit had a point there. He could have done better to keep the relationship going...

"...And Betty..." the petite fennec continued to count of Wilde's ex-girlfriends. He smirked as he saw his partner lower his head. "I believe she left you for the same reason Susan did..."

Gritting his teeth, the seasoned pawpsicle hustler raised a hand up in a motion for the fennec to stop. As the dread at his failed relationships continued to build, Wilde felt as though he was about to be the one that did the threatening if the little shit kept this up.

"...And Janet... and can't forget Marble either," the petite predator chirruped. That corsair vixen had QUITE the legs on her.

Raising his head, the taller of the two foxes opened his mouth, about to argue with him. 

But then the little prick hit home. "...AND Sheryl..." Finnick reminded him.

Lowering his head, Nick sighed. He had no words for that one. He **had** screwed it up big time.

"...Who," the smaller vulpine continued. "I believe Gwen then hooked up with because you were apparently such a terrible boyfriend you turned her gay," the desert fox added, simultaneously rubbing salt in the other fox's emotional wounds and pride.

Turning his head to look at the smaller guy, the taller vulpine queried, "This is your vengeance for waking you up at four am, wasn't it?"

Letting off a noise that was a mix between the laugh and a snort, the desert fox replied, "Nah! Not at all, Wilde! I'm just still amused by the fact that you're so bad in the sack that not only did you go through ladies like most people do tissues but that you could be bad enough to turn someone into a lesbian!"

The red fox glared at his smaller compatriot. "One of these days I'm going to find a way to rent you out as a kickball to make a couple of extra bucks."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Finnick replied, "Yeah, right! We both know you won't, Wilde. And that's because I'm the best there is at what I do and you need me for way too many of your sca~ **Aaa** aandalously wonderful ideas!" He quickly altered his speech as the vixen walked back into the room, the lovely lady now in her police shirt and pants.

"Hey you guys," the woman spoke up as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen. "I wanted to ask if I could retain your services this afternoon to do some grocery shopping." She lowered her head in an almost pathetic manner that even Finnick felt a little sympathetic. "Really, I apologize for having to depend on you two so often but there's so much that still needs to be done while I adjust to living and working here. Please know I do appreciate your time and effort in helping me get settled here."

Not one to let someone know they were getting one in on him, Nick calmly waved her off in a welcoming fashion. "No worries, Carm! It's why I hired myself out to you in the first place," he reminded her with a pleasant tone.

However, that didn't mean the desert fox wasn't going to pass up the chance to get a dig in, especially since this conversation almost got them caught. "He means, 'whored himself out to you'." Finnick smirked at the dirty looks he got in return from both red foxes. "What? You do whatever she asks and she pays you, just _**how**_ is that not whoring yourself out to her?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the male vulpine settled his emerald eyes down on his petite partner. "...I would prefer the term, 'gigolo' if I had to accept a designation under such circumstances." Then after a moment, he amended, "Or at the very least, 'manwhore'."

Nodding his head, Finnick chirruped, "Manwhore it is then." As motioned to himself with his right paw, the small fennec added, "And that makes me your Pimp! Now get to working for her, Bottom Bitch! You got money to make for your daddy!"

Watching the back-and-forth between the pair for a little bit, the woman had to blink her eyes once, twice, thrice. "Sometimes I can't tell if the banter between the two of you is just friendly chatter, if you genuinely hate each other's guts, or if you're an old married couple."

Both male foxes turned to look at the vixen as one, before replying in sync, "We're heterosexual business partners."

To have such a practiced response ready at the drop of a hat made it apparent to the policewoman such was a statement along the lines of something the two got asked quite often. "Sorry," she apologized to the pair. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Seeing the woman was genuinely apologetic about that took a lot of the steam out of the tiny vulpine's annoyance. "To be fair, it might seem that way. Heck, Cherry thought I went both ways when we first started dating," Finnick muttered, deciding to not bring up that Cherry had, on more than one occasion, hinted at having a threesome with him and Nick... and even once asked outright! Thankfully he shot that idea down _**REAL**_ quick!

 _I blame all those friggin' Modern Literature classes she took in college_ , the fennec thought with annoyance. They really filled that girl's head with kinky ideas! _Darn books about emo bats warring with needy wolves over bland pre-teen does and others about the various colors of gray_... _five or something_. He surmised there couldn't be more than a dozen shades of gray.

Nodding her head in understanding, the vixen replied, "I'm still thankful for your hard work." The seriousness in her tone of voice conveyed how genuine she was with that statement. Taking a deep breath, she looked back and forth between the pair of male vulpines. "Now then... if you two will give me a moment, I need to finish dressing. Then I'll return with your cash and we can get going. I don't want to be late."

Smiling, the taller of the two male foxes nodded his head. "Hey, completely understandable! You go get yourself suited up to kick ass and chew bubblegum while my pal and I finish cleaning up here." He smirked. "We'll also stop for coffee along the way."

Blinking her eyes, the woman looked down at the table of the breakfast nook, noticing the two empty Styrofoam cups. "I thought you already had coffee?"

"No, this is just a little something to wake us up. Snarlbucks is real coffee," the desert fox explained before narrowing his eyes, making himself look rather fearsome despite his less than impressive three-foot stature. "Even if the bastards charge you for a falsely-named cup what most places list as the cost for actual food!" It always annoyed him that he would ask for a 'grandé' coffee and get a medium instead. Medium cups were NOT grand unless they were sized for elephants!

Noticing the unleashed ire that was stirring in his partner's head, Nick merely shook his own in exasperation. "They also don't care who you are, so long as you got cash," he added rather pointedly, explaining why someone as skinflint as him _would_ spend the money there.

"Which is why we keep going despite how much of a rip-off it is," Finnick said in agreement with the taller canid. "Darned yuppies are out to fill their tip jars, learning the mercenary skills that will keep them alive in this harsh economic climate." He smirked. "And that means kissing up to even us foxes."

Carmelita nodded her head as she told the pair, "Be that as it may, do what you need to. I'll be right back." As she said that, the vixen turned about, the Hispanic beauty walking back into the house and towards the bedroom she had claimed as her own; one which the male red fox noticed was in the direction of the guest rooms... or what could have been the kids' rooms.

When he heard the door close, Nick let off a wistful sigh. "Do you see what I have to deal with, Finny?" He quietly asked his fellow con-mammal. "She's just too..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it, knowing the petite badass would just harp on him some more.

Rolling his eyes, the fennec let off a sigh. He wasn't a fan of _that_ nickname either. Still, Widle had a point. "Yeah, yeah... too spicy for Yog Sogoth, huh?"

A small smile curled at the corners of the red fox's mouth. "I might not be one for peppers... but she is one bit of Latin spice I would happily partake of." He smacked his lips for emphasis.

Snorting, the desert fox replied, "Still not as good as my sweet Cherry."

Shrugging his shoulders, the taller of the two vulpines answered in turn, "Maybe. But that's because you're a bit of a sourpuss. You need her sweetness to get a bit of tartness in your life."

"While you, dear Wilde, are just as salty as they come," the fennec shot back as he began gathering up thin sheets of crinkled wax-paper, using the aluminum they came wrapped in to collapse the mess into one big ball for easy disposal. "But hey, at least you're not bitter."

"Better her than him," the candi conman replied. He blinked his eyes once, twice. "...Man... we are _TERRIBLE_ with food puns aren't we?"

"Like curdled milk," Finnick nodded, grimacing as he realized he let another one off..

Nick sighed at that. "I blame the fact we had too little to eat growing up and then our first job was in fast food," he surmised. "At least, I'm pretty certain that's how Vanilla would reason it."

Giving a nod of his head firm enough that it made his large ears bob, the desert fox had to admit, "You got it in one, Wilde." He shrugged his shoulders before he looked at the open waste basket in the opposite corner of the kitchen. He made a little jump before tossing the small ball of refuse towards it. The crumbled mostly-aluminum ball hit the rim before bouncing in, making the tiny vulpine cheer, "Three points!"

Scoffing, the taller fox quickly argued, "No way! It _clearly_ bounced off the rim. Two points!"

Turning to stare at his partner-in-scamming, the petite vulpine declared, "From this distance! It's easily three points!"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the taller of the pair of predators shook his head. "You know the rules. They state it has to go straight in," Wilde countered, getting a huff from Finnick.

"If it went straight in," the desert fox continued to argue. "It would have been worth five points!"

"I swear to God," Carmelita called out as she entered the kitchen again, now decked out in the full regalia of a Zootopia Police Officer they had seen her in yesterday–including the steel-toed boots she added to it. "You two are like an old married couple!"

Again, the Latina vixen was treated to the sight of the male foxes turning towards her and speaking in unison, "We're heterosexual business partners."

That earned a snort for the woman as she shook her head, causing her hair to wave with the motion. It was still slightly wet but a lot of its volume returned as it got dryer. "Anyway, are you two ready to head out? I believe you said something about getting us some coffee before dropping me off."

"Sure, we... uh..." Nick trailed off as he stared at his fellow red fox, his eyes were drawn to her waist–and not because of her hypnotic hips this time. Instead, they were honing in on the large and rather boxy red weapon holstered on her right hip. "...Is that loaded?"

"Hmm?" She looked down at her right, where her weapon and a set of her own handcuffs were holstered. Raising her head back up, the vixen replied, "I'm going on duty, so of course it's loaded. You never know when you'll need it."

The male fox continued to look down at it before he took a deep breath and then began exhaling slowly. "Yeah. Sure," he said in understanding. It was one thing to have seen that weapon in its case the other day. To see it primed and ready was a whole other experience. "It's just you usually don't see the cops in Zootopia with shock pistols. Muzzles, yes. Tranq guns, sure. Tasers, definitely. But shock pistols are a whole different kettle of fish."

Rolling her light brown eyes, the vulpine woman sighed. "We can talk about it later. Right now, we do need to get going. I have to get to the ZPD on time! So either skip or your coffee run or we leave now!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Looking down on the masses gathered in the station from the safety of the second floor, Chief Bogo let off a sigh, causing his already impressive muscular chest to expand and deflate immensely. The lobby was full of mammals, leaving little to no room for movement; the place packed! "I can't believe you're making a media circus of things already," he said to the lion that stood at his right. "Shouldn't you have waited for Officer Montoya to have a chance to get integrated with the station and used to our protocol first?"

A chuckle reverberated in the maned feline's own broad chest. "Relax, Bogo," the leonine bureaucrat replied as he fiddled with his ear-piece in his right ear. He tapped the bud once, then twice with his index finger. "Testing, testing... is this thing on?"

" _It's on, Mayor Lionheart!_ " He heard the chirrup of the cheetah who was managing the station's front desk, despite the static interference the little device picked up as well. " _It's crowded down here but I can hear you loud and clear!_ "

Nodding his head, the lion gruffed out, "Wonderful!" At least his tech was working. Having the ability to take advantage of cues and corrections live was important.

As the Mayor played with his ear-piece, Bogo shook his head. Something about all of this was bothering him. Namely the fact that Officer Montoya had, apparently, _tried_ to check in with the condo but due to some sort of misunderstanding, was booted out. _That reminds me, I need to have a talk with that manager sometime_ , the Police Chief thought to himself. Straightening himself up, the African buffalo then told his fellow mammal, "Mayor Lionheart, I still feel this is a terribly bad idea. We should have taken a moment to at least vet her ourselves, first. Make sure she knows how to publicly speak!"

Turning his attention to the herbivore to his left, the proud feline queried, "Is she or is she not a proud and decorated member of Interpol?"

Nodding his head, the cape buffalo replied, "She is."

"Right," the lion chirruped. "And did that portly cheetah confirm that she does indeed exist?"

Again, the large pret mammal nodded his head. "That he did. We got her signatures on file and he swore up and down it was her," the horned bovidae replied before furrowing his thick eyebrows at the Mayor. "And for the record, his name is Officer Clawhauser. If you're going to remain in office, you best be nice to the boys in blue. Benjamin is well-liked around here."

The opinionated leonine politician snorted. "Of course I'm good to you and the others!" He replied firmly. "I mean, _**I**_ make sure to give six digits to the policeman's ball every year, as does nearly every member of the city council. The least _you_ could do is trust me to have the best interests of the city in mind!"

The nostrils on the African buffalo's snout flared in response as he let off a loud snort of his own. "I _might_ have believed that if you hadn't been here a week ago pushing this whole Initiative down my throat and begging me to help you make it work."

"Didn't happen," Leodore insisted as he took a moment to adjust his tie once more. "If there's no recording of the event, be it visual or audio, it didn't happen. Therefore, this is merely a completely altruistic campaign on my part to help the needy and disenfranchised mammals of the city and can't be proven otherwise!" He smiled wide, showing the prey mammal his sharp and pearly white teeth for emphasis.

As the predator politician's rhetoric grated on his nerves, Bogo took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Tell me, Mayor," he began firmly. "Do you really think _anyone_ with more than two brain cells to rub together is going to buy that?"

A chuckle reverberated in the suited mammal's throat. "They always do," the Mayor replied rather haughtily. "And when they do, my approval rating is going to jump back to over ninety-percent!" He said with quite the bit of apparent self-assurance. "Because they'll know it was Mayor Leodore Lionheart that made this possible for them!" He rubbed his impressive paws together. "And when they have a police force they can envision themselves being a part of, then I can see if I can get money into other venues: put into a private space program! Imagine it, Bogo! We'll be the first to put a sheep or some other meek prey mammal into space!"

Rolling his eyes, the burly slab of beef decided to get off this topic that was the leonine politican's enthusiastic self-aggrandizement my asking, "Speaking of sheep, where is Assistant Mayor Bellwether?

Opening his mouth to give an answer... the mayor then had to snap his jaws shut as no answer was forthcoming. He blinked his eyes as he thought about it. "...Did I accidentally leave her behind today, leave her under a stack of books, or did I have her run out and get me coffee?" He murmured, trying to remember what he did with Smellwether...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Standing beside a stretch of long and lonely road by a rusty bus stop sign, a poor petite sheep looked back and forth in either direction of the impressive expanse of asphalt. Bringing her left hand up to the side of her head, she adjusted how her glasses were settled on her face to make sure she got the best focus out of them. "...Hello?" The little lamb called out, wondering what was taking so long. This was the agreed location and time that Mayor Lionheart said he was going to have a chauffer pick her up. She'd been in Bunnyburrow for a week and all she wanted to do was get home and kick her feet up...

...Mostly because she wanted to make sure _SHE_ was in the best shape when she gave him the bad news. "I still can't believe I only got the **one** applicant..." Still, Bellwether could see that Miss Hopps was rather enthusiastic about the opportunity. Hopefully the little bunny could make it through the rigors of the Zootopia Police Academy.

"Hello~oooo?" Dawn called out again before a tumbleweed went blowing past her along the stretch of deserted road. Lowering her head, she let off a depressed sigh. "Oh muttonchops..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shrugging his shoulders, Leodore scoffed, "Bah! It's not all that important! I'm sure she'll show up eventually!" He rubbed his hands together a second time as he looked at the clock that was part of the wall, settled above the set of glass doors that made up the main entrance of the police station. "Ah... almost time to start. You wish to open this up, Bogo or shall I?"

The Chief of Police snorted once more at the blasé attitude of the politician. "Normally I would but I have the common sense to _**NOT**_ get tied up in this," he said in all seriousness. "If you want me to, I can head down **after** you to field questions but this is your shit show. It's up to you to take the center ring of this three ring circus and make it work."

The mayor clapped his hands together. "Excellent!" Now he wouldn't have to share any credit with the uppity herbivore either! He chortled at such luck before turning his gaze towards the city's police commissioner and smiled. "Wish me luck."

Considering that for a moment, the horned herbivore smiled. "...I wish you everything you have coming," the ebony-skinned bovidae replied in all honesty in a calm and gentle tone that belied the true and devious intent of said words.

The back-handed compliment went over the Lion's head. "Why thank you kindly, Chief Bogo!" He chirruped as he began to walk away from the burly bovine. Making his way towards the closest staircase, he descended it as elegantly and graceful as his feline nature allowed him to. His head held high with perfect poise as he heard the sounds of cameras going off along with the flashes of light that managed to shine in his field of vision. It was never a bad idea to take every opportunity one could for a photo-op. _And best to make sure they get my good side_ , he thought with a bit of mirth as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

Mammals tried to get in close, to get the lion to speak about the reason of the conference before it was time but he held his lips firmly shut with a handsome smile, taking comfort in the officers on the ground floor who worked to hold back the press and help him make way to the stage that had been sent up at the left corner of the police station's reception area. Again, more flashes of light went off as the man strutted as if he owned the place. Eventually, he reached the steps at the right of the stage and made his way up before to stand on the platform before heading to take his place behind the desk that had been set up for him central on the raised surface.

Looking over the podium, Lionheart smiled. There were so many professional mammals of the media today for this press release. It seemed every channel he reached out to with the offer, in turn acted in kind and had sent some form of representation to his conference. All around him were cameras and microphones from Channel 2 News, Channel Cinco Noticias, News at 9, Eye on 11, Channel 13 News, Paws on the Pulse, the Sahara Square Broadcasting Service, Z-TV News, ZNN, and many, **many** others. It was a perfect turnout to help spread that news that would ensure him victory at the next election. His eyes darted to the clock, awaiting for the hours hand to reach the eight. He would start neither before nor after but on the mark. Punctuality was a sigh of professionalism!

When it did, the large feline brought his paws down atop the podium, being careful not to disturb any of the microphones there. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemammals of the Press. I want to first take a moment to personally thank you for gathering here at ZPD's Precinct One at Savanna Central, because today is history! Now for those who may not be in the know, particularly any audience on a national or even global level, allow me a moment to introduce myself..." seeing the various animals with their cameras flashing and camcorders rolling, the lion gave a beatific smile. "I am Leodore Lionheart, Fifty-Second Mayor of Zootopia and the first Predator to hold that office in our fine city. I know I am blessed to have managed to reach such a lofty position thanks to the efforts and sacrifices of my own blood, sweat, and tears... but my presence here as the leader of this city isn't just the promise of a better tomorrow, it's a beacon of a new age. The citizens see that a predator can successfully hold down office and demand that we give others the best opportunities as well. And I am happy to say, I am proud to deliver."

The leonine politician allowed the reporters to murmur amongst themselves before he continued. "Zootopia has always claimed to be the place where, 'anyone can be anything'. I am pleased to announce today, we begin honoring that promise with the Mammal Inclusion Initiative." He paused once more, smiling as the animals were jumping, trying to get his attention, to have him indulge further information as to what THAT meant. _Got them eating out of my paw_ , he thought with delight before speaking aloud once more. "The Mammal Inclusion Initiative is a new act, signed into law by myself and the city council, which will provide all animals with high-ranking opportunities! It will ensure equality among predator and prey citizens alike in the job market. In particular, this policy will give a much-needed leg-up the members of Zootopian society who have long-since been disadvantaged, whether historically or even currently! These poor mammals have been handed lemons for so long without being able to make lemonade! Well, it's high-time we make life take those lemons back! Today, we get mad and demand to see life's manager! We make life rue the day it thought it could give these poor oppressed predators and innocent, innocuous prey lemons! Today we burn life's house down! With the lemons! Combustible lemons that will burn life's house down!"

There was quiet murmuring of confusion as most of the press didn't know what to make of that.

Blinking his eyes, the lion brought his right hand up, coughing into it to both clear his throat as well as draw the attention of the media once more. "Sorry about that. I sometimes get carried away in my passion," he said to excuse his little outburst. Seeing all the eyes and cameras on him, the Mayor continued once more. "Now I know some of you may be scared. After all, from what it sounds like, we're letting animals take a stab at jobs they might not be qualified for physically or mentally! Positions in society that their species, at first glance, makes them appear outwardly ill-suited to!" He spoke up, knowing that was how he felt too. "Well, just remember this. As a wise mammal once said, 'there's nothing to fear but fear itself... and maybe some mild to moderate jellification of bones'. To borrow from the voodoo sham known as psychiatry, it sounds to me like many of us gathered here are partaking in what they'd call, 'projection'." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked over the crowd of news reporters, be they television, radio, internet, or printed paper. Leodore then continued, "Now, I make no qualms about it. I'm no psychiatrist but I do know this! These are the mammals who not only helped mold this city but history! They were with us when we stormed the beaches during Zoo War II, beat the Red Menace to space, and brought back the gold at the Animalympics numerous times, snatching it from other nations and allowing us to wallow in our pride! We did it together! It's you and me against the world! So remember, when it comes to giving these poor, disenfranchised mammals a shot, it isn't about _why_ –it's about _why not_!"

Up above and out of sight of the masses, Chief Bogo shook his head as the members of the media cheered the lion on. Despite his distrust of politicians, even the herbivore had to admit, the predator knew how to play a crowd perfectly. It was almost like he was a former professional wrestler, the head of a science company, or something along those lines that required a lot of public speaking or manipulating a crowd of mindless mammals.

However, before he could mull over the matter further, that was when Bogo caught sight of one of his policemen making their way into the throngs of mammals that filled the lobby from underneath the overhang of the second floor where he was settled, signifying this person was entering from further in the building. Odd. He could have sworn all active duty officers were to help maintain the peace at this conference. Everyone available was already accounted for and no one should have been returning from any assignments: they hadn't even had a chance to have a proper meeting in the bullpen outside of roll call this morning because of the damned press conference.

And that was when it dawned on the Chief of Police. This _wasn't_ one of his usual officers. This was a uniformed female all right, one that was making her way for the stage. He narrowed his eyes and tried to get a better look. Idriis knew he had weaker eyesight than he would have liked to be sure–it came with growing older– but he would have sworn that woman looked like she was a… a...

His eyes widened in understanding and horror as he realized just **what** was being dropped into their laps. " _ **Shit!**_ " He cursed heatedly under his breath as he made his way for the staircase in an effort to cut the woman off before she could be noticed and hopefully avert any disaster. 

Bringing a hand up to the side of his head and over the ear-bud, the leonine mayor of the city nodded his head. "Ah! It would seem the guest of honor has arrived," he chimed merrily. He took a deep breath before continuing, "We of Zootopia are most blessed that the Mammal Inclusion Initiative is being kicked off by a very proud canid woman of Latin background. Multilingual and a known globetrotter, she has solved crimes in many places in Europe such as England, France, and Italy, to Asia where she cracked cases in Russia, India, and China, to stopping illegal acts in the island nations of Australia and Haiti, and even busted some baddies in our own neck of the woods in the Zoonited States and Canada! There is no one more adapt to transverse between all the Districts of Zootopia than the paw-picked protégé of one of Interpol's very own top Commissioners! Ladies and gentlemammals of the press, I am proud to introduce you all to Inspector Carmelita Montoya— _ **FOX!?**_ "

With the exception of the rotund cheetah at the front desk who applauded her as she entered into the fray, everyone gathered in the room went silent as a tableau of stillness fell over the lobby of the police station, cameras held high and rolling as, even as their operators where frozen in place. Every animal from officer to reporter to politician was focused solely on the woman that made her way through the crowd as she honed in on the stage. She was tall and feminine canid that some would have thought to be a coyote or even a smaller wolf at first glance. But the colors of her pelt, the fluffiness of her tail, and even the scent–for those who were close enough and had the noses for it–knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was a fox.

A uniformed and armed fox who was decked with all the authority of the Zootopia Police Department behind her badge.

The vixen continued to transverse the room until she made it to the right side of the stage, climbing up the steps that creaked under the firm footfalls of the thickly-soled, steel-toed boots that adorned her lengthy, feminine legs. That she didn't stop but made her way to the podium, confirmed that she was indeed the woman that Mayor Lionheart had been waxing poetically about. Without pause, the Latina vulpine made her way between the larger lion and the stand, climbing up the ladder bars built into the back before sliding her feet into the foot-hold platform that was at chest-height with the larger feline. Her hands came to the top of the podium to help steady herself as she looked out at the awe-struck audience.

Standing at the mid-way point of the staircase that travelled along the left wall of the station Chief Bogo stared awe-stuck... before needing to clamp his right hand around his mouth to keep from letting out a bout of nervous laughter. _Just freaking_ _ **perfect**_ , the muscular bovine thought with a mixture of amusement and bitterness. _Figures my old friend would do something like_ _ **this**_ _to me_. He was too late to stop the farce from happening so he might as well just enjoy the show. Hopefully the cape buffalo and his officers would be up to controlling the fallout that was going to result from this.

"Hola," the woman finally greeted, her voice coming out over the speakers. "As your mayor has stated, my name is Carmelita Montoya Fox." She looked over her shoulder at the man for a moment and wondered why his eyes had dilated into pinpricks before shrugging it off as awe at her professional presence and continued, "I admit, I've never been that comfortable in front of a camera but I will do my best to speak to you today." Straightening up, the vixen gazed out over the crowd for a moment at all the mammals gathered. "I am a fourth generation member of law enforcement, with peace-keeping being a tradition that actually goes back three-thousand years in my family, originating in Ancient Egypt where my furthest ancestor of recorded history, Foxhotep the First, was Captain of the Pharoah's Royal Guard. At a young age, I studied at the Sleuth Academy in Madrid and graduated at the top of my class before going off to train at the Trinidad & Tobago Police Academy at the Port of Spain in my home-country. After graduating from the Police Academy with High Honors, I began working for the Investigative Services Division of Interpol, under the guidance of then-Inspector James Barkley... who today is currently the Commissioner-in-Chief of the Paris Branch of Interpol. He was like a second father to me and taught me much about the ins and outs of the field, helping to guide me when it came to handling rules and regulations as well as to be an even better person than I already was."

Taking a deep breath the woman looked out over the crowd. "I know that in Zootopia, the motto is, 'anyone can be anything'. Let's be completely honest though. Such is simply **NOT** the case..." she practically clenched her fingers against the top of the podium before continuing, "Within the first twenty-four hours of arriving to this city, I found myself victim of assault... _**twice**_... vandalism in form of destruction of personal property... and heard more specist remarks than the rest of my life combined! You mammals put on a pretty picture for the public but deep down? You're still animals and you let your instincts guide you."

She straightened up again, staring out into the lobby, at those gathered for the press conference. "The Mammal Inclusion Initiative had to be passed into and enforced by law _because_ the mammals here can't seem to remember that it's been a half century since the Zoonited States' Civil Rights Movement. This city **needs** that push to get with the times on both an emotional and mental level. I'm not going to mince words: you can put up all the bright lights, coat structures in splashes of warm colors, slap positive bumper stickers on your cars, and publicly play all the pop music you want as loud as you can... but if you can't help a fellow mammal in need because of their species? If you hold negative assumptions about other species tight to your chest and view stereotypes as gospel truth? Then it's no wonder a new law had to be initiated!"

Seeing numerous sets of animals' eyes go wide with shock at the fox's–rather accurate and truthful –heated accusations, the Hispanic policewoman continued. "Now, I know this may be scary for most of you, as you're so used to getting your way or seeing things done, 'as always' but that doesn't mean others are any less deserving. Once upon a time, when the truth about the shock collars came about... yeah, remember those?" She looked around the room. "Zootopia was more than willing to give up the status quo you held a literal death grip around the necks of the predators with to get with the times!"

She took a deep breath. "And yet... it's still the same story: yours is a society based on a form of oppression. Only now you go by, 'survival of the fittest' with the physically biggest and strongest members of society dictating the way things are to the point your city actually excommunicated an entire phylum of animal species for profit! And worse, you still go about stereotyping the animals that remained and treat them by such labels. Filthy raccoons, smelly skunks, shifty weasels, dumb bunnies, nutty squirrels, timid sheep... sly foxes..." she snorted. "All these and more play in your minds as that, 'gospel truth' I mentioned earlier."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the woman said, "It's time to break you out of that ignorance you built up around your minds like walls with a dose of hard reality and basic facts! I am a fox, yes, but my history speaks for me. I am a successful policewoman and damn proud of it! If you have any problems with that, then you can take solace in knowing..." she smiled. "That's just how people regularly feel about the police! I am Interpol Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox, now Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox of the Zootopia Police Department as per the ruling of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. In the words of the famed actor Sylvester Stallion: I am the Law!"

It took a solid five seconds before the lobby of the police department exploded in an uproar, voices rising as cameras began flashing in rapid succession. All mammals of the media were loud in expressing their confusion, the impassioned questions they screamed at the top of their lungs drowning out one another. Still, despite the disturbed state of the agitated animals, a number of inquiries did manage to be heard above the chaos.

" _ **Miss Fox, what do you mean about, 'specist'?**_ "

" _ **What do you mean you are the law?**_ "

" _ **Why bring up old history of the shock collars?**_ "

" _ **What's this about a police officer being assaulted?**_ "

" _ **What about the vandalism?**_ "

" _ **I'm interested to know what your measurements are!**_ "

" _ **Shut up, Carl!**_ "

" _ **Mayor Lionheart, are you okay? You look like you're having a heart-attack!**_ "

" _ **Who the heck brings up such disgusting remarks at a news conference? Doesn't she know proper decorum?**_ " 

" _ **What's this about a species being excommunicated?**_ "

All the voices that went up at once made it difficult for Carmelita to keep track of, but she did her best–particularly to answer the questions that mattered. "I remind you because you **still** act like people are still wearing them! That they cannot retaliate to whatever disgust you heap upon them! And yes, crimes have been committed and I will see to it they are sorted out." As the ruckus began to get louder and drown out the speakers, she had to shout into the microphone, "AND I AM THE LAW BECAUSE OF EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE IN MY EIGHT-YEAR CAREER TO UPHOLD AND DO RIGHT BY IT!"

The feedback that screeched out over the speakers made everyone gathered cringe, but at least they went silent as many brought paws and hooves up to protect their ears.

As the room began to settle down once more, Carmelita then more calmly answered, "And no. You _**cannot**_ know my measurements."

" _Darn it!_ " A voice called from the back.

" _I said to shut up, Carl!_ "

Nodding her head, the vixen was about to continue to offer to answer more questions if the audience remained calm... only to let off a yelp as the Mayor suddenly grabbed her. Struggling with the woman as he held her underneath right arm, the lion was quick to declare, "This press conference is **over!** " Before he turned tail and ran, the members of the press' voices all raising once again and becoming even _louder_ , wanting more information than had been given, numerous members of the ZPD needing to get involved among the throngs of the media to keep order.

Taking a deep breath, Chief Bogo shook his head as he watched the Mayor come up the stairs with their face of the Initiative in tow. _And now he's going to blame me for this fiasco_. He thought to himself. _Oh well, at least it was somewhat amusing. No wonder we couldn't find her, a 'Chihuahua'! HA! Figures a tiny mutt couldn't be in Interpol_. As it was, it looked like there was going to be a much needed conversation behind closed doors... ASAP. "And all I wanted to do was just get the officers in the bullpen..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : First off, I would like to give a shout out and thanks to Nicolaswilde, who some of you may know better for his "Zistopia" Tumblr blog and web-comic. When I was in the planning stages of this story and talking to him about including aspects and ideas he came up with his story, he gave me permission to use and do certain things... including using the dream sequence Nick had. I changed some things about it but it still contains that core message that came from his Tumblr web-comic.

A remembrance of an old wives' tale/stereotype. When foxes find their mates, they end up SCREAMING their names...

Really puts a new spin on all those times Carmelita was roaring out Sly's name, doesn't it?

And yes, thank you Zistopia for the list of Wilde's ex-girlfriends! Poor Nick has a real tough time staying in a stable relationship, it seems.

I also received an interesting question from someone I shall keep anonymous for now as they asked me via PM rather than the reviews. Still, it was an interesting question.

" _I enjoy your story a lot but why so much focus on dreams and phones?_ "

And excellent question, which shows my readers are starting to pick up on the message of the story.

And that message is simple: Communication.

Whether we're talking with each other or over distances with our technology, the whole point of this story and even the movie was that communication is one of the most important aspects of life and getting along. This whether a person's subconscious is trying to tell them something through dreams or they are getting things done with a cell phone or in person, we see things get done through communication... and how crazy things can get when we don't properly do so.

Also... holy shnikes! This story for featured on the Zootopia News Network! What an honor!

Now some of you may have noticed that this was still a pretty lengthy chapter. Well, I am sad to announce, as much as I prefer to keep to a weekly schedule, I need to take an extra week again. My home's services have been incredibly wonky and work has been coming down harder on me. I barely had the opportunity to get THIS chapter ready in time. 

Next update will be Saturday, August 6th! Hope you all enjoy and keep on reading.


	8. Law and Disorder

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal & Kacey Antelope

Chapter 8: Law and Disorder 

The door to Police Chief Bogo's office was pushed open roughly; the lion mayor's impressive left paw still on the frame and the opaque glass as he stormed into the room. The mane-adorned feline turned his torso to the left in an attempt to slam the door shut behind him in his rush, only to have the herbivore who worked in said ZPD office come up behind to catch the wood and viridian-tinted glass barrier in mid-swing along the edge of it with the hoof-like digits of his hand. "Be careful with this, Mr. Mayor," the cape buffalo said in all seriousness. "Slamming the door will break it!" The way he snapped out at the felidae made it clear the thick-skinned prey mammal was speaking from personal experience.

As he Turned about to glare to the herbivore, Leodore squeezed his right arm in an attempt to keep ahold of the vixen that was fighting against the tight grasp he held on her. Ignoring the woman's heated cursing of, 'gilipollas' and, 'el cabrón' the suited individual waited for the chief of police to enter and fully close the door before he told the African buffalo, "Oh we have bigger problems than you would with a broken door!" His lip curled back in a snarl as the fur on the back of his neck stood on end. "We have this scheming _fox_ trying to ruin us with a scam!" After all, there was no way in a hell a shifty fox could hold an honest job! "I refuse to believe Interpol would send us a vixen of all things! They are untrustworthy cowards looking out only for themselves!" He screamed at the police chief, clearly in denial about the situation.

At hearing the mayor's energetic assassination of her character, the woman's temper flared. "I am not an untrustworthy coward, let alone a stupid fox, you egoísta hijo de puta!" She shouted at the tall feline's muscled backside. "I am Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox! A decorated veteran member and agent of the International Police's special investigations! Now put me down! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" She screamed as she flailed out her legs, kicking them violently as she squirmed and twisted, trying to free herself from the large arm that kept her bound. She pressed her hands firmly against the Mayor's right elbow and back lumbar region, forcefully sliding herself out of the hold the larger mammal had on her.

Feeling the woman starting to slip free of his clenching arm, a frown crossed the Zootopia bureaucrat's muzzle. "Oh no you don't!" Leodore snapped angrily as he crossed his left arm over his chest and firmly grasped the base of the woman's tail, tugging on it roughly and pulling her back into place; ignoring the woman's scream of pain as he tugged on the smaller mammal's spine. "We are getting to the bottom of this, little missy! That I guarantee! And I don't want to hear any more of that foreign taco talk either! I want answers in Gouda-darned **English**!" He emphasized his point by forcefully pulling on the vixen's tail by the base again.

Flinching at the sound of the woman's pained scream, Chief Bogo's inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring in rising fury. His thick eyebrows furrowed in anger, changing his field of vision into that of a glare on his already stoic features. The mayor's rough mammal-handling of the female red fox was intolerable! "Mayor Lionheart! Stop this stupidity at once and put that woman **down**!" He snapped in a commanding fashion befitting his rank as chief of the ZPD. "I promise you, we'll get some answers but there is no reason to be physical with a uniformed officer of the law!" Needless to say, personal experience made Idriis more than willing to give the Hispanic vulpine the benefit of the doubt. Considering what he knew of the old badger, he wouldn't be all that surprised if this whole thing was one of James' life lessons the man often went on about. The bovidae just needed to get cool heads to prevail so they could figure things out.

The lion scoffed as he flexed his muscles and squeezed his paw, effectively tightening his grip on the woman's tail even further, keeping her from getting away. "Uniformed, yes! But a police officer? NOT A CHANCE!" He snapped at the horned herbivore. "Now, you get your handcuffs and muzzle on her and keep your Taser at the ready! We'll interrogate this no-good slutty piece of foxy tr~ **RAAA~AAAAAA~** _ **AAAWWWWRR**_!" Leodore roared out in pain as the steel-toe cap of the woman's right boot came into contact with his right knee with a surprising amount of strength behind it, forcing the leonine politician to release her as he fell forward onto the green-carpeted floor of the Chief of Police's office, the woman scattering away on all fours for a moment to quickly put distance between the two of them.

Needless to say, the ebony-skinned herbivore's eyes widened in utter shock and disbelief at the spectacle before him. The Chief of Police was frozen where he stood as he watched the lion drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, taken down by a mammal not even half his size with only a well-placed kick. "Mayor Lionheart!" He was finally able to gasp out in surprise as his mind caught up with what was happening. The muscular prey mammal gazed down at the fallen form of Zootopia's elected official; the feline curled up into a fetal position, both paws over his knee. Getting down onto his right knee, the bovidae policeman gently grasped the politician's shoulder, rolling the man onto his back to make it easier for him to breathe. "Are you all right?"

Hissing through the spaces between his fangs, the lion's eyes snapped wide open, the iris of his brown pupils feline slits of rage before they rounded out as he got over the pain. "She kicked me!" He snapped out before needing to breathe quickly through gritted teeth to work through the pain. "SHE KICKED ME IN THE KNEE!" He was looking about from where he lay, trying to catch sight of the woman. "Where is she!? WHERE IS THAT DAMNED **YIFFER**!?" He had every intention of throwing the book at that bitch when he got his paws on her.

Hearing _**that**_ comment made the woman stand up from where she had gone for cover behind the desk; ignoring the pain that pulsed through her backside from the tip of her tail to the base of her skull as she did so. Adrenaline allowed the female red fox to climb up into the cushioned faux-leather chair before she took a stand atop Bogo's desk, claiming the high ground as it were. The Latina policewoman withdrew her shock pistol from the holster on the right side of her hip and took aim at the downed mammal, pressing her finger down on the trigger and firmly holding it there. Such an action allowed the Charge Shot function of the firearm to kick in, the weapon gathering energy for an impressive blast that would fire off once she released her finger. "Mayor Leodore Lionheart!" She shouted the man's title and full name to grab his attention. "You are under arrest for contempt, obscenity, assaulting an officer of the law, sexual abuse of an officer, and whatever the hell else I can think to legally charge you with once I calm down!"

Both men went wide-eyed at both the humming of power and the accusatory declaration of the vulpine woman. Bogo raised his head to see the lady standing there with her legs slightly spread and arms held high with the firearm in front of her; a crackle of electricity dancing across the dual green muzzle bulbs on the weapon's barrel. "Now hold on a minute, fox!" He shouted as he brought his hand up, motioning for the woman to stop. "You're only going to make things worse!" The mammal told the smaller predator in all seriousness. "You can't just go slapping the mayor with criminal charges!" Tempting as it was, such was career suicide!

The vixen ignored the water buffalo and instead continued to read the lion his Miranda Rights as even if Zootopia was a sovereign state, they were still technically on ZS soil. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

The politician's jaw dropped and landed on his muscular chest from how he laid there with his head craned forward to get a look at the vixen. This... this was inconceivable! He was the mayor for crying out loud! He was Zootopia's elected authority! How dare this little scam artist try to pull one over him? Shaking his head firmly and causing the many strands of fur that made up his mane to flutter, the Mayor began to shout, "Listen here, you—"

"You do not have the legal authority to process the man!" Bogo snapped, interrupting the mayor to keep him from making the situation devolve even further. He then stood up from where he'd been kneeling beside the downed feline predator, his eyes drawn to the angry glare of the heavily breathing vulpine woman. Now at his full height, the African buffalo crossed his arms over his chest, taking on an imposing presence. "I am willing to believe you are Officer Montoya but—"

"Fox," Carmelita spoke up suddenly, interrupting the buffalo. Seeing she had the bovidae's attention, she corrected him, "My name is Inspector Carmelita Montoya **Fox**." She narrowed her eyes, meeting the man glare-for-glare as she refused to back down. "And who's going to stop me from charging him? Considering that I'm _still_ an Interpol officer, I'm pretty certain I can get Lionheart here to face a completely fair trial nowhere near here!"

Despite being coated in a lovely golden tan pelt, the fur around the politician's face managed to pale; the action most visible on the scars that went across the bridge of his nose. "You can't do that!" The mayor protested... only to let out a yelp as the gun seemed to spark in her hands as the longer she held the trigger down, the brighter a charge it maintained.

Glaring down at the leonine bureaucrat that looked ready to piss his pants, the woman firmly stated, "Yes. I. Can."

"No you can't!" The mayor protested again, scooting his rear along the floor with both of his paws in an effort to put some distance between himself and the glowing weapon she held. "You can't do this! I'm the first predator mayor of the city! I have huge popularity here! Huge!"

"As much as I hate to admit it, he's right," Chief Bogo spoke up and got between the, understandably, irate vixen and the fearful mayor. "Miss Fox, if you don't discharge that weapon and put it down, this could cause some serious problems for all of us." Well, admittedly less for him but he suspected that if he didn't do something about it, there would be a massive blowback coming his way in the near future. _Stupid politics_ , the big guy mentally groaned.

The vulpine policewoman stared up at the much taller cape buffalo, able to meet his gaze thanks to standing atop his desk. Although the Hispanic red fox kept her weapon drawn, she lowered it slightly. She had no intention of firing upon a fellow officer but she felt it was best to keep it out in case either the mayor or the chief did something very stupid in the next five minutes. "That's part of why you have me ready to call Barkley and have the man extricated. After what I've experienced over the past seventy-two hours I'm not all that trusting of your city's judicial system, let alone its higher-ups in general."

Closing his eyes, the ebony-skinned prey mammal took another deep breath, making his massive muscular chest expand to the point it stressed all the buttons of his shirt to nearly the busting point before he exhaled and allowed the material of his police dress-shirt to relax. Opening his brown eyes, he met the woman's own chocolate gaze again albeit with a much calmer expression this time. "Look, I can understand your anger. Those ear-splitting howls of pain were rather impossible to ignore." He brought both his hands up in a warding manner, trying to placate the irritated woman. "But please, put the weapon away so we can discuss things like civil mammals. I promise that nothing is going to happen to you, all right?"

"Like hell nothing is happening to her!" The lion snapped from where he sat on the floor. "Damn it, Bogo! Take the muzzle off your belt and put it on her! Even if she doesn't try shooting at us, I don't trust that conniving little tart to not attempt biting one of our faces off once we let our guard down!"

Rolling his eyes, the large and muscular bovidae mentally groaned as said tart growled and pointed her gun once more, her finger still holding the trigger down to where it looked ready to blow out a wall in his office once she released it. "Stop helping," he deadpanned to the mayor. His eyes meeting the irritated vulpine officer's, he stated in gentler tone of voice, "Miss Fox, if you would please...?" He motioned for her to put the gun down, hoping to diffuse her temper.

Needless to say, the woman wasn't relenting. "Take two steps to the side so I can deal with this _el tonto_ personally, **then** we can talk." Carmelita's voice was tinged with anger and her eyes seemed to be glowing as she growled in a predatory fashion.

The larger mammal felt a tad nervous as he realized said glimmer in her eyes was actually the reflection of the power sparking at the front of her shock pistol. "Officer Fox, please..." he said in a soft yet commanding tone, now using the woman's name and rank. "I understand the mayor says and does stupid things. You can't blame him for sticking his foot in his mouth. He's a politician. That's just what politicians do!"

"Hey!" The lion snapped indignantly from his place on the floor as his massive paws stroked back and forth along his right knee, trying to ease the throbbing pain that was shooting throughout the limb from where she put a possible hairline fracture in his kneecap with that solid plate of steel she had on her boot for toe-protection.

Rolling his eyes at the feline predator's continued irritability, the African buffalo offered, "Look, just hit discharge on that thing–and I **don't** mean by releasing the trigger," he quickly added. "Once the blast is dissipated, we'll calmly call James Barkley and have him sort this out, all right?" For Chief Bogo such would also be the clincher to discover the slightest off-chance that this was maybe _, hopefully_ some kind of intricate fox con job.

The woman met the larger mammal's gaze for a moment, just wanting nothing more than to fry the leonine bureaucrat and haul his ass overseas to an Interpol facility for trial and incarceration. "Fine..." Carmelita finally agreed and lowered her weapon, pressing a button on the side of the handle with her thumb to allow the shock pistol's charge to release harmlessly, the front of the weapon's muzzle no longer shining with electricity. "But one crack, just _**ONE**_ more specist crack from him... and I'll break his kneecaps."

"YOU ALREADY DID!" Mayor Lionheart yelled, rubbing his right knee to soothe the pain.

The vulpine officer couldn't help but snort in response. 'Please! If I did, you would be screaming bloody murder, cursing me out, and talking incoherently," Carmelita countered. She had broken more than a few kneecaps in self-defense to know the general reaction animals had to such damage, particularly the larger ones. "Probably vomiting all over yourself too while your face was covered in an immense amount of tears and mucous."

Bogo raised an eyebrow at that response. "Sounds like someone has broken a lot of kneecaps in her day..." he murmured quietly. That was definitely worrisome. Being a City-State, the ZPD had its own rules, regulations, and statistics but with their land being situated within the Zoonited States, that meant there was a prevalent bit of stereotyping going on. And the chief of police would rather **not** have to deal with any civilian blowback from her doing that to anyone.

Finally holstering her weapon, the Latina vulpine replied, "More than I would care to admit, el cúmbila," she said in all seriousness as she stepped back, walking towards the top left corner of the furniture. She motioned to the phone on his desk with a wave of her right hand. "Do you want to make the call or should I?" She queried as she pat her pants pocket with her other hand, signaling to him that yes, she did have her cell phone with her.

"...I'll make the call." He replied as he came closer, taking a moment to rub the side his head in aggravation. Oh, this was going to be a _long_ day. He just knew it. Still, it was best to just get on with it rather than to draw out the despair. So grasping the phone's handset and pulling it free from its cradle, he pressed one of the three red buttons below the number pad; that first bulbous square button shining red as it was pushed in.

Soon, the sounds of both the familiar voice of the chubby front desk attendant and what appeared to be a riot came over the line–background noise the cape buffalo realized match the audible thrumming that could be heard through the door of his office. " _Yes, Chief! What can I do!?_ " The voice spoke up loudly into the phone to be heard over the audible background interference.

"Officer Clawhauser!" The police chief snapped, booming his voice out. "I need you to bring up the phone registry and—"

" _Sorry chief!_ " The happy-go-lucky officer of the front desk spoke up, interrupting the man. " _I can't hear you over all this ruckus! Everyone's going bananas down here and we're swamped with trying to keep the peace!_ "

Furrowing his eyebrows Bogo growled in annoyance. Well so much for having the man look up the call history of the station to pull up the Commissioner-in-Chief's number. "Fine, just keep people from breaking stuff."

There was a loud crash heard over the phone. " _Sorry, someone broke one of the security cameras_."

The horned herbivore twitched. " _Don't let anyone get hurt_."

" _EEEK!_ " A screech sounded out over the phone.

" _Someone fell over and got stepped on!_ " Came the cheetah's cry of despair.

Bogo twitched. How much worse could this get? "Don't let anyone—"

" _ **IT BURNS!**_ "

A surprised gasp of Officer Clawhauser sounded out over the line before the cheetah snapped, " _Gotta go! Someone accidentally set themselves on_ _ **fire**_ _!_ "

A perplexed expression of awe dawned over the muscular herbivore's face before he slammed the handset back onto the cradle. At the looks the other two mammals gave him, all he could answer was, "If I kept going, somehow a tornado would have struck and it would all be my fault." He shook his head in disbelief before turning his attention back to Carmelita. "Miss Fox, would you please be so kind as to use your cell phone and make that call? Things are too hectic outside right now for me to get any assistance from the officers." He couldn't help but wonder if perhaps it wasn't time to actually look into a secretary of his own. After all, Dawn Bellwether was most helpful to Mayor Lionheart. He could use that level of assistance.

Nodding her head in understanding and sympathy to the man's plight with the chaos that both surrounded and filled the station, the woman withdrew her cell phone and used her thumb to move through menus. Eventually she was able to bring up her contact list where she went straight for her boss. The vixen then pressed her thumb down on the listing, before she then brought her other hand to the front of the screen, clicking a button and turning it to speaker mode as the first ring sounded out. The vulpine then reached her arm forward to the cape buffalo, offering the cellular phone for the larger officer to take.

Gently taking hold of the woman's phone–a smaller model than he was used to–Bogo held it before him so he could look down at the communications and media device. A part of him was actually now hoping more than ever that this was some fox scam so at least the media and city would have someone to blame all the insanity happening downstairs on!

Hence, why the buff bovine was both upset and relieved when he heard the familiar voice of his friend James Barkley answer on the other end of the line. " _Hello, Inspector Fox_ ," the voice chimed out in greeting. " _How is everything going over in Zootopia?_ "

Exhaling deeply, the African buffalo spoke up, "Actually James, it's me. Chief Bogo."

" _Ah!_ " The badger on the other end gasped in delighted surprise. " _Good to hear from you Big Driis! I take if you've finally met my protégé? What do you think of Carmelita?_ "

The horned herbivore's left eye visibly twitched. "Oh... let's just say Officer Fox has made **quite** the entrance..." he growled out.

Jovial laughter sounded out from the other end of the line. " _Ah! So you_ _ **have**_ _met her! What do you think? Perfect for your Mammal Inclusion Initiative, right?_ "

Before the muscular side of beef could reply to that, Mayor Lionheart sat up as he roared out in aggravation, "YOU SENT US A FOX!"

There was only silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Finally, the voice of the badger came back on, speaking in an innocent, dulcet tone. " _Is there a problem with that? I mean, I could have_ _ **sworn**_ _Zootopia was an enlightened beacon of equality and opportunity for the rest of the world_."

The bovidae police chief frowned at the tone his old mentor took with him. "Don't play dumb with me, Barkley. We both know that I wasn't expecting a fox of all things to show up."

The man on the other side sighed. " _Look, I had no interest in correcting your misconceptions; that much is true. However, the simple fact is, you were the one to make those misconceptions, not me. Now, tell me,_ _ **old friend**_ _... how have things been with her showing up? I'm certain that there's been no trouble right?_ " He knew that if Carmelita did something rather... insane... that he would have probably hear about it by now.

"SHE KICKED ME IN THE KNEE!" The leonine politician shouted out in righteous indignation.

Her eyes narrowing into a glare, the canid cop placed her left hand on her hip and snapped out, "He assaulted me first, Barkley! I'm going to need to see a chiropractor after the way he tried to pull my spine out!"

The Mayor of Zootopia's eyes widened in shock at the female fox's blatantly false–in his opinion–accusation. "Now see here! I did no such thing!"

Feeling the hair stand up on the back of her neck at such blatant disregard for his appalling treatment of her, the Hispanic red fox's eyes practically blazed as she glared at him with unbridled fury. "Yes you did!" The vixen screamed back.

Huffing, the leonine bureaucrat maintained his innocence with, "No one saw it, no one recorded it, therefore it didn't happen. Security cameras might have seen me proactively escort you offstage but there was never any assault let alone rough handling caught on tape."

Her left ear twitching in irritation, the woman stared down at the asshole politician. "Ah! But you see, by that same bit of logic, you can't prove I ever kicked you in the knee."

"THERE ARE WITNESSES HERE!" Lionheart snarled as he raised his left arm and pointed at the police chief. "BOGO HERE CAN TESTIFY!"

While what she was about to do was a low blow that would have normally made her angry with herself for even considering it a valid option, the vixen found she didn't have the sympathy to not use it thanks to everything these mammals put her through. "Yes, and I'm a Hispanic woman," Carmelita countered. "People of Western culture, particularly the court of law, will be far more sympathetic to me than they would a straight male mammal of the one-percent." She took her hand off of her side and crossed her arms over her chest. "And besides, if you count Bogo as a witness, then you should remember that he _**also**_ witnessed you assaulting me!"

"No he didn't!" The lion was quick to argue. "Zootopia City Hall's Seal and the signatures of the Town Treasurer and myself are on his paychecks!" Granted they were digitally signed but that was still his name on their pay-slips! "He knows better than to otherwise bite the hand that feeds him!" He pointed out stoically. "Ergo, we have a witness for police brutality!" He raised his right hand, waving it energetically. "POLICE BRUTALITY!"

" _...Well then..._ " the badger's voice finally came over the phone again. " _Sounds like you're in a bit of a pickle there, Big Driis. Being torn between a blowhard politician and my temperamental protégé. Oh I do not envy you!_ "

His shoulders sagging, the herbivore brought his left hooved hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes in an effort to avert the migraine he could feel coming. "I'm caught between a proverbial if not literal rock and a hard place." Taking his hand off of his long face, the policeman asked, "Is there **anything** you can do to smooth things over? I mean, if I give the phone back to her, would you please talk some sense into Carmelita? I can handle the mayor but..." he looked over to the aggravated woman, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. "I don't have the experience to successfully assuage her temperament due to lack of previous interaction with Officer Fox."

A chuckle sounded over the phone. " _Well said, M'Bogo my boy_..." the older mustelidae's light-hearted laughter continued a bit more before he could bring himself to speak again. " _Sorry to tell you this, but I am certainly_ _ **not**_ _one of those who can be prodded. In fact, if anything, I am the prod_."

The African buffalo groaned at the badger's particular choice of words. "More Churchill?"

" _He is always prevalent to any situation. I believe even more so than ever in this day and age_ ," the Interpol Commissioner-in-Chief insisted.

Lowering his head, the horned bovine let off a depressed sigh. "At the very least, I now know she's legit..." Bogo grumbled as he accepted this was indeed Commissioner-in-Chief James Barkley. He then turned his attention back to the mayor, telling him in a more audible voice, "Which means this isn't a scam and that little hope w— _you_ had is gone." He was quick to correct himself but he was certain the vulpine probably caught that slip of the tongue.

Fortunately, the politician didn't catch the cape buffalo's attempt to shift all blame onto him as his mind TRIED to process what he'd been told. Leodore's jaw eventually dropped in shock as he got it. "No... it can't be! It **can't be**! You mean we're stuck with a _**fox**_ of all things as the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative!?"

" _The_ _ **best**_ _fox_ ," James insisted. A small bit of background noise could be heard from the phone... which oddly enough sounded like Carmelita talking. " _Ah, speak of the devil. It looks like Inspector Fox's speech is the top story on ZNN right now... heh. You should see your face, Mayor. You look like you're about to have a heart-attack..._ "

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" The lion roared. "She'll sink the Initiative before it even gains momentum! Foxes are nothing but shifty, conniving, untrustworthy con-artists! No one will ever take the idea of a fox being a police officer **seriously**!" The politician continued to rant, ignoring that the vixen in the room was getting agitated once more.

" _They do in the rest of the world!_ " The badger snapped, the first time he'd actually gotten angry over the phone since this call began. " _And if you want me to not send a covert force of specialists to investigate the suspicious specist activity that goes on in Zootopia, you'll forget all this talk about charging her for assault–which sounds more like a case of self-defense to me–and begin making reparations to Officer Fox_ _ **immediately**_."

His eyes practically bulging out of his skill, Mayor Lionheart sputtered out, "Ruh-reparations?" The feline violently twitched. "You want us to give her _reparations_!? **FOR WHAT**!?"

" _I count assaulting an officer for one... I wonder how many more charges... oh yes!_ " The badger on the other end of the line stated rather boldly. " _There's blatant specism on your part just now, and I'm sure that attacking a woman who is much smaller than you won't look good in the eyes of the general public._ "

"There is no recording!" The lion snapped out angrily. He was about to defend himself further, only to find his tirade derailed as a buzz sounded off from his jacket's breast pocket; that section of his attire vibrating as it did. Brining his left paw up and pushing the handkerchief aside, he reached in and removed his cell-phone for private political use... and his jaw dropped once more as he saw he saw the name on the screen.

Carmelita raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Being elevated higher than Mayor Lionheart was, thanks to her place atop the desk while he was on the floor, the Hispanic vulpine was intrigued to watch as the phone began to prick at the instincts of her Inspector's Intuition. The cell phone was practically coated with an image overlay of orange sparkles in her vision to be certain but the name on the screen of the device was practically **popping** out as orange lights.

Hornaday.

Before the female red fox could comment on that, the mayor forced himself to his feet, grunting in pain as he had to put pressure on his right leg. "Bogo... just... just handle this! I've got bigger and more important problems on my plate right now!" So saying, the man turned about and began limping for the door before exiting, leaving the pair of police mammals to have a calmer conversation with the badger on the end of the line.

With his honor the Mayor having left, Idriis took a deep breath and sighed, trying to get his thoughts together. "Well, I hope we can take a moment calm down now," he said as he stepped towards the semi-opened wood and glass barrier before closing it behind the mayor. Turning his attention back to Carmelita, he bit his lip. "Well this has been one giant SNAFU."

"Gee, you **think**?" Carmelita snapped back, still rather upset about the whole ordeal thus far. Not just with Lionheart but every challenge the city had been throwing her way!

" _Yes, quite so_..." Barkley agreed. " _By the way Carmelita, that was_ _ **quite**_ _an impassioned speech you gave. I'm certain it may start to turn international attention back on the city._ " He chuckled. " _It also might strike a chord with some of the locals too. A small reminder of what some mammals and their parents did might be enough to get some people thinking if not talking... and hopefully make an impression on the innocents, the children who came after."_

The chief of the ZPD stared down at the phone in his hand for a moment. "...I'd comment on that sentiment of yours but I have a feeling no matter which way my opinion falls, you'd be reprimanding me with some sort of Winston Churchill quote."

Outright laughter sounded out over the line. " _Oh, you know me_ _ **so**_ _well!_ "

A guttural growl sounded from the back of the herbivore's throat. "Please, be honest with me James. Is there anything I can do to try and smooth things out for now so we can start this over on the right foot? As suspicious as the Mayor's reason for wanting to start this Initiative is, I can admit... it might do some good. And she has the no-nonsense attitude it will take to get some of the more... shall we say, _thick-headed_ mammals to listen."

" _You mean besides giving Inspector Fox the number of a good chiropractor?_ " The mustached mustelidae queried. " _Well, that's quite simple really. Give her a car._ "

Blinking his eyes in confusion at such a blunt response, the African buffalo could only reply, "Pardon?"

" _You heard me,_ " James firmly replied before he kept on pressing the issue. " _I did some digging on my own time. It seems that some of the car models made exclusively for Zootopia are..._ _ **impressive**_ _, to say the least. Give her one._ "

The Chief of Police twitched. "James? You know I love you as if you were my own father but tell me... why? Why should I give her a police cruiser?" Considering he was talking about, 'impressive cars' that were specific to Zootopia, the horned herbivore was certain that the older mammal was referring to one of theirs in particular.

" _Well to be blunt, I had an informative talk with Carmelita yesterday about everything that's happened,_ " he honestly replied. " _And don't forget Big Driis, you DID tell me_ _ **you**_ _would personally handle her living arrangements... which I believe fell through terribly so. Now, considering she had to find her own place and is now living out in the remains of the Happytown District, Inspector Fox could really use something to help her make the commute in a timely manner. So could you please be a mammal of your word and help her with at least_ _ **that much**_ _?_ "

Cringing as the man twisted the figurative knife verbally, Bogo took a deep breath. Taking a moment to reconsolidating his pride, composure and thoughts, he eventually exhaled fully in acceptance. "Fine. We'll give her one of the squad cars on loan: she can use it as long as she's living in Zootopia..." a small chuckle reverberated in his throat. "In fact, I'll do you one better. Since it's a police vehicle, I'll give her one of the station's gas cards."

" _My, how generous of you..._ " Barkley went silent on the line for a moment. " _What's the catch?_ "

"Nothing much. Just makes a nice tax write-off for the station that City Hall will have to foot the bill for." A smirk graced the bovidae's muzzle. "I admit to my own incompetence playing a part in this little episode, and am mammal enough to admit it... consider this my way of trying to start over on the right hoof with you and the Inspector." He turned his gaze to the woman on his desk and tried to offer her a smile, hoping there would be no hard feelings between them.

The man on the other line was silent for a moment, considering what his friend had offered. " _Well, how lovely,_ " he finally replied. " _Now, about that chiropractor she mentioned needing. I'm pretty sure that Inspector Fox's back is probably going to start killing her soon._ "

Again, the African buffalo's gaze turned towards the vixen once more, this time with worry. "How soon is soon?"

" _As soon as the adrenaline wears off, I suspect,_ " Barkley replied, obviously speaking from experience. He could remember all the times she ended up needing to see a doctor when she first began her career of chasing the late Sargent Cooper across the globe. While some of the moves and techniques were used as exercise, the mustached mammal would have sworn the two practically created modern day parkour with their antics!

Mentally tabulating such for a moment, Bogo caught the gasp he wanted to release in his throat before it sounded off. Finally, he began to explain a calm tone, "That's a bit much to have the department pay for all at once... how about I just give her a paid day for now so she can have a chance to rest up before we need to dig into deeper pockets to send her to a professioanl?"

Hearing that comment about time off made the vulpine woman raise one of her navy blue eyebrows up so high it went into her hairline. "Hey now!" Carmelita spoke up, taking part of the conversation again. "What makes you think I want to just rest? I have a duty to uphold the law, damn it! I've also taken nastier tumbles and been handed worse treatment from perps on the streets. I can handle myself!"

The badger's voice came over the line once more, this time addressing his protégé. " _Yes, Carmelita... you_ _ **are**_ _a tough woman... but I have a feeling the situation may be a bit tougher on you right now than you let on..._ " he paused, giving the woman a moment to digest that bit of information. " _So it might be in your and the city's best interests to take that offer. I'm certain things are in an uproar right now thanks to your impassioned address to the city. It might be a good idea to keep your head low for the day and, as Bogo suggested, start over anew tomorrow._ "

The woman pouted... a pout that Chief Bogo was surprised to find looked absolutely adorable on the woman. "But Chief Barkley," the vixen began firmly. "You can't just a expect me to forget working after YOU were the one to insist I be here in the first place!"

" _Who said anything about forgetting work?_ " The badger calmly replied. " _Taking time off doesn't mean forgetting work. Go for a swim, go to a spa, or just drive around the city and get used to it. You'll be here for some time so it won't hurt to learn the lay of the land._ "

The Hispanic policewoman twitched. "But Chief..." she began, trying to think of a way to logically argue with him.

Her boss was having none of it. " _Trust me,_ " Barkley insisted. " _You do need to get to know the city. Only now you can do it from the safety of a vehicle... still..._ " he trailed off as a thought occurred to him. " _It wouldn't hurt if you had someone with you. M'Bogo! Do you think she can borrow one of your officers as an escort?_ "

The Interpol Inspector frowned at the thought of that. "I don't need an escort!"

However, as with Bogo, the man kept calm and merely stated facts. " _Having someone to help you remain calm and assist in guiding you through the city isn't a bad idea,_ " he said in all seriousness. " _That and you do need someone there in case your back goes out..._ "

The woman huffed in annoyance at her superior's show of worry. "My back's fine!" Carmelita insisted... only to suddenly twitch as a spasm ran up her spine. "Completely fine!" She stated, although her voice was a little strained there.

Bogo shook his head at the vulpine's instance of getting out there. While he could admire Officer Fox's work ethic, the last thing he needed was the woman falling ill somewhere in public and blame being directed back at the ZPD. "Right, James. I'll make sure she has a proper escort. I'll call you back. And thank you again."

A soft chuckle sounded over the cell phone. " _Don't thank me, just do. Good luck, Big Driis._ "

"Later," the bovidae replied as he brought his left hand before the phone and slid his left hooved index finger over the screen, shutting the connection before he handed it back to the woman. Watching the female red fox pocket her phone, he spoke once more, addressing the Latina vixen directly. "Again, I do apologize for all of this..." he trailed off, thinking of the best way to put it. "This _interesting_ morning."

With her phone safely tucked away, Carmelita's frown deepened. Returning her attention towards the African buffalo, she firmly stated, "Personally, Chief Bogo? I find the idea of you people wanting to have someone watch over me rather demeaning. I am a capable and experienced officer of the law. I don't need a baby-sitter!"

"Who said anything about a baby-sitter?" Bogo scoffed at the woman's show of bravado. "Having an escort show you around until we get the paper-work finalized for you to work the station regularly with the other officers isn't a bad idea." He shook his head. Meeting the woman's gaze as he began to pull his chair back, he firmly told her, "And don't say that you don't need to partner up with any of the officers here; these people are Zootopia's finest! Even if you were some gosh-darned Super Simian from those weird Japanese cartoons, it never hurts to have someone watch your back."

The woman rolled her eyes as it appeared the herbivore was going to be adamant on that issue. Well, if the man and her boss were going to stick her with someone, only one person really jumped to mind right away. "Clawhauser."

The cape buffalo paused in mid-swerve; the man having been about to sit down at his desk. With his rear held aloft, he looked at the woman standing on his desk with a raised eyebrow. "Pardon?" He queried, a tone of disbelief evident to his voice. Did she really say she...

"I want Officer Benjamin Clawhauser," the vulpine stated seriously. "At the very least, as my escort today." At the confused expression the police chief gave her, the Latina beauty explained, "He's the first Zootopia police officer outside of you that I've had any extended interaction with. He seems like a good enough mammal and he probably knows a lot about this city." She expected Nick knew even more but it wasn't like she would get the station to sign off on a civilian... _**especially**_ one that was likely to demand monetary compensation for it. "So can I borrow him for today? If we're just driving around it won't be too hard on him." After all, she had to take the cheetah's... well... _physique_ into consideration.

Bringing a hand to his chin, Bogo took a moment to consider the request. Finally, he eventually nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, that actually sounds pretty good," he admitted. His other officers were likely going to be on edge from keeping peace during the press conference debacle, and he could easily get someone downstairs from records to handle the front desk while the cheetah was out keeping the woman from getting into further trouble. "To be honest, he's not my first choice but I think after the insanity that's been going on out there—"

" _OH GODS! IT'S EVERYWHERE!_ " Someone screamed from outside, causing both officers to look at the door and wonder what was going on.

Blinking his eyes at that, the uniformed police chief shook his horned head in annoyance. "As I was **saying** , after that insanity, he would probably like to get out of here." The dark-skinned herbivore grumbled as he settled himself down at his desk. Picking up the phone from the cradle and bringing it to the side of his head, the man pressed his hooved index finger to the button below the keypad once more, connecting his line to the front desk. "Clawhauser?"

" _OH GOUDA ALMIGHTY! THE VOMIT'S EVERYWHERE!_ " An unfamiliar voice wailed over the line.

Both officers twitched, wondering what the hell was going on down there. It was the African buffalo who voiced his concerns with a mighty shout of, "CLAWHAUSER!"

" _Sorry, chief!_ " The familiar voice of the haggard feline sounded over the line. " _We've still got something of an emergency down here!_ "

Nodding his head, Idriis queried, "Well, are the walls still standing?"

 _ ***CRASH!***_

" _Uh... that was someone sliding on the floor and through one of the walls..._ " the front desk attendant hesitantly answered.

Rolling his eyes, the chief let off a groan. "Are the lights—"

" _AAAAHHHHHH!_ " A scream sounded off, interrupting the man.

" _One of the fixtures just came crashing down!_ " Benjamin's voice cried out in terror. " _Those poor mammals!_ "

"Clawhauser," the black-skinned herbivore spoke up. "Come upstairs to my office when you can. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to hang up now before I cause Armageddon to start." And with that, he put the phone back firmly onto the cradle.

Carmelita blinked her eyes as she watched the man sit there, his hand still pressed down firmly on the handset as he stared off into nothing nice. "Uh... Chief Bogo?" She chirruped. "Are you okay? I mean, shouldn't we..." she trailed off as the larger mammal turned his gaze towards her. Not that he intimidated her, but she could see so much weariness behind those eyes that it made her feel a bit of pity for the man.

The man's heavily muscled chest expanding impressively as he inhaled through his nostrils, the man then eventually opened his mouth, letting out a deep gasp of breath. Again and again the large prey mammal breathed like that, calming himself while the vixen was unable to do anything else but watch in silence. When he felt he was more in control, he firmly told the Latina vulpine, "I'm going to let it calm down before I head out there." Reclining back into his chair, he then asked in a surprisingly nonchalant manner, "Are you thirsty, Officer Fox? I've got some cold lemonade or Kool-Aid to drink."

Needless to say, the sudden friendliness of the police chief caught her off guard. Blinking her bright, brown eyes a few times, the navy blue-tressed vixen had to finally to ask, "Really?"

Police Chief Bogo merely nodded his head. "After doing this job for four years, I learned it's best to keep snacks and drinks on hand for the late nights... particularly the ones where you don't get a chance to go home before your next shift." He sighed as he finally withdrew his hand from the phone's handset before turning his attention to the woman. "Again, I know I've said this a lot already but please believe me when I say I am terribly sorry for the way things have gone so far," he apologized to the vixen as he reached for the top draw to his left and opened it before his hooved hand dug in and began rummaging through it. Pulling out a small baggy, he brought it before him and opened it. He then let a number of the fruit-flavored, star-shaped gummies fall onto his other palm before bringing them to his mouth and downing them in a single gulp. "Mmm... artificial flavoring and sugar... perfect."

To top it off, the cape buffalo then leaned to the other side of his desk and opened the drawer there to reveal a secret to the canid cop standing atop the furniture.

Looking down into it, the vixen was absolutely surprised at the chill that rose from it. Turning her head to her left, she looked at the Chief and asked, "You have a fridge built into your desk?"

Bogo merely smirked, the first relaxed smile the Hispanic vulpine had ever seen of the African buffalo's face since she met the man. "It saves space, plus I get cold drinks whenever I want without having to use the public fridge in the break room... meaning I don't have to worry about assholes like Officer Delgado filching my snacks!" He then leaned to his left and withdrew a can of lemonade and offered it to her, along with the rest of the bag of gummy snacks. "It's very useful to have lemonade, Kool-Aid, iced coffee, and other things on hoof while I work."

Although he would never admit to his Gazelle Pop Song breaks. Oh no! Anyone who was unfortunate enough to discover that dark truth about him wouldn't live to tell the tale! He might not have minded sharing his snacks but he still had an image of a badass to uphold. No one could _**ever**_ know the man's love of the superstar musician.

Looking down into the open freezer draw and gazing at its contents, the vixen brought a hand up to her chin, idly scratching it in thought. Finally raising her head to look at the much larger mammal once more, Carmelita couldn't help but query, "No soda?"

Snorting, the police chief shook his head. "Of course not! I might like a jelly snack now and then but soda has far, far too much in the way of salt, sugar, and empty calories. I'd balloon up like a blimp if I had too many of those regularly. I've seen it happen with Officer Clawhauser with all those Cub Sodas he downs on a daily basis."

She blinked her eyes as she looked the man over, as if she was really seeing him for the first time. "You are really nothing like I imagined you would be," she admitted, coming to terms with the stories of the war-hero Chief Barkley told her about and the actual person before her.

A small smirk played on the larger prey mammal's lips. "The same could be said for you. A fox policewoman..." he murmured as he popped the top on a can of lemonade, the sound of metal slicing giving way to the air. There was no fizz of carbonation as such wasn't part of how the drink was packaged. "But the stories Barkley told me and the lengths he would go to, put himself on the line for you like that? To me, that speaks very highly of you." He told her in all seriousness. "I'm not going to lie. I have my own preconceived notions when it comes to your species but I'm willing to push them aside when it comes to you and give you your fair shot."

"Gracias." She nodded in acceptance as she popped her own can open. The two waited there in relative silence, enjoying the cool canned beverages, as the background noise that seemed to hum in through the closed door was getting noticeably softer. "Hopefully things calm down soon."

The African buffalo nodded his head in agreement at the woman's sentiment. "That may..." Bogo started, only to trail off as the phone began to ring. Bringing his hand over and hitting the red call button for the system's speaker, he leaned forward in his seat. "Hello?"

" _Hey, chief! Clawhauser here!_ " The familiar voice of the front desk attendant chirruped. " _It's finally calmed down with_ _ **only**_ _a few thousand dollars in damages!_ "

The man twitched, realizing he was going to have to fill out a lot of insurance and requisition forms because of this stunt of Mayor Lionheart's. "Well that's just... lovely..." Bogo sighed as he took a long drag of his drink, suddenly wising it was **hard** lemonade. "I hope no one was _too_ hurt from the insanity that followed."

The feline was happy to report, " _We have a few people waiting for the ambulances, but otherwise no._ "

Nodding his head, Police Chief Bogo was genuinely pleased to hear that. He was more expecting the numbers to be in the dozens rather than a mere, 'few'. "There weren't any more damages were there?"

 _ ***CRASH*!**_

" _Oh dear..._ " Benjamin's voice whispered sadly. " _Well, poor Officer Higgins just tripped and fell down the stairs,_ " the feline admitted. " _I think he took out a few steps at the bottom on the left staircase._ "

The horned herbivore couldn't help but twitch at that. "I guess we'll need to repair those as well..." Darn hippos! They needed to watch their weight better. "Can you get to my office?"

" _Well, yes!_ " The voice chirruped. " _Do you need me to bring anything?_ "

The bovidae paused for a moment as he considered the request. "Yes, actually. Bring up a set of keys for one of the newer vehicles. You're on escort duty today. And before you ask, just get in here." Bogo sighed as the cheetah gave him an affirmative and hung up. At the curious look the vulpine woman gave him, the man told her, "I swear! With the way things were going, a volcano would have erupted beneath our feet if I stayed on the line any longer."

Carmelita couldn't help but give off a little chuckle at that. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Upon entering the police station's parking garage, the rotund cheetah was quick to go off to his left where the station had the supply closet set up near the entrance into the parking area. "Here we go," he said as he opened the door to the large steel cabinet for the vixen. "Grab a booster seat for yourself. This is going to be amazing..." the feline policeman promised as he motioned for the Hispanic beauty to come over to claim what she needed.

Carmelita stared at the exuberant spotted feline, feeling rather unsure about that. However she wasn't one to make waves–particularly since she NEEDED a vehicle if she was going to commute–so the female red fox did as asked and began riffling through the cabinet, grabbing a black Kevlar booster seat.

Once she was out of the way, the uniformed spotted wildcat went to the other set of doors on the same cabinet, retrieving what looked like a pair of adjustable stilts. Turning away from the upright container, the feline gave the metal door a smack with his hips, causing the barrier to swing shut. Looking down as the Latina held the black-colored booster seat, he told her, "All righty, Officer Fox! If you'll just follow me..." he told her as he then turned away from Carm and began to lead the vixen down the line of police cruisers, passing car after car of various sizes until he came to a stop at the woman's designated vehicle.

The police cruiser Officer Fox was being gifted with by the department to make up for all the hassle she had to deal with was less, 'car' and more, 'armored vehicle'! It was a high mobility multipurpose wheeled vehicle; a four-wheel drive, all-terrain military truck! The Humvee's widespread body and studded and highly siped reinforced off-the-road tires would make it so the vehicle could easily negotiate the treacherous desert sand of Sahara Square and wade through the water-logged jungles of the Rainforest District, the grip and weight that would allow the police cruiser to remain stable on the icy roads of Tundratown, and an exterior with armor thick enough to possibly repel a shot or three from a _**TANK**_. It was a majestic miracle of modern engineering, designed for any of the much larger mammals of Zootopia's Police Department. To top it off, its sleek exterior was coated with a shiny black paint with white zebra striping on the side for an added stylish effect! Overall it was definitely an imposing piece of machinery that practically screamed, 'Respect MY Authority'!

Her brown eyes going wide with shock, the booster seat fell from the navy blue-tressed vixen's nerveless fingers as she gazed upon the absolute monster of a police cruiser. The gasp that escaped past her lips was quite audible to Clawhauser. It took a moment for the female red fox to gather her wits, but finally the Interpol Inspector was able to quip, "I think all this thing needs is a cannon barrel to be fit for military use..."

Needless to say, this was **exactly** the sort of police car Honey would have wanted her to drive back to Happytown with. Anyone who saw this _thing_ parked outside the badger's home was going to think twice before messing with the house's occupants!

Nodding his head in agreement with the smaller predator's assessment, a wide grin spread across the cheetah's chubby cheeks. "Oh, you are going to look absolutely **amazing** behind the wheel!" The perky feline cooed in delight as he came up to the side of the police vehicle and grasped the handle. Pulling the driver's side door open, he continued to smile as he went to work. The portly policeman placed the pedal extensions he grabbed on both the gas and the brake panels, securing them into place and giving them little shakes now and then to check for stability as he would fasten locking mechanisms. Nodding his head in satisfaction, the feline then turned about and bent down, grasping the booster sear the woman had dropped on the floor. He then proceeded to secure it into place on the driver's seat. Looking it over, the policeman nodded his head. "Need a hand getting in, Carm?" He paused as a realization hit him. "Er... I can call you, 'Carm'... right? Don't want to step on any toes here."

Although considering her steel-toed leather boots, Benjamin couldn't help but feel that perhaps he was the one that should be worried about having his toes stepped on.

While she was appreciative of the jolly feline's efforts, the vixen had to admit she wasn't too comfortable with the idea of acting all, 'buddy-buddy' with someone she had barely met, and it showed on her face with how she pursed her lips. Still, she didn't want to outright reject the cheetah; she could see he was a gentle soul and he'd been nothing but helpful. "While we're on the clock, I am Officer Fox and you will address me as such, Officer Clawhauser. I may not be your senior in the ZPD but I don't go by a first name basis with anyone while on duty." The Latina lady did offer him a gentle smile though. "Off hours, though? We'll see."

For the time being, that answer was enough for Benjamin. "Hey, no problem!" He said politely as he saluted the female red fox. "Not like we're on duty all the time. So in return, you can call me Officer Clawhauser!" He bent down a bit and offered her his paw. "Again though, you need a hand getting up?"

Nodding her head, the Hispanic vulpine graciously took the feline's offered mitt, allowing him to aid her in getting into the large police vehicle–considering she could feel her back twitching at the thought of having to get in herself, such was a godsend. Settling herself into the seat, the woman pressed her feet down on the pedals, getting a feel for everything. She nodded her head to the man in affirmation as Benjamin seemed to have estimated her body dimensions pretty spot on. The lady needed only a moment to adjust the rear and side-view mirrors before she buckled her seat belt. She then reached over and placed the key she had been given by Chief Bogo into the ignition. "All right! Get in and buckle up, Officer Clawhauser! We're going for a ride!"

"Right-o, Officer Fox!" The feline chirruped as he closed the door for her. He then came around to the right side of the vehicle before opening the door and climbing up into the front passenger's seat, taking a moment to settle himself in. As he began to buckle up, he couldn't help but murmur, "I tell you what... I can't remember the last time I actually went out on a ride! I'm so used to giving and taking instructions to the on duty officers on the other end of dispatch that I forgot how comfortable these seats were!"

Nodding her head as the hyperactive–despite his considerable weight–cheetah prattled on, the woman turned the key, causing the vehicle's engine to roar to life, thrumming through the bodies of both predators. "Oh yes," the Latina policewoman cooed at the power she felt reverberate through to her very core. "Now **THIS** is a police cruiser!" Oh if only she had something like _this_ baby back in the day during any of her earlier cases! The Interpol agent currently on loan to the ZPD was certain she could have cracked those assignments much sooner... albeit such might have involved running Sly over directly. Still, she could have easily charged him and seen the raccoon fit to stand trial after a lengthy stay in a prison hospital.

A small, sad smile graced the woman's muzzle at the thought of the Ringtail. Shaking her head, the woman let off a soft sigh before turning her attention to the feline sitting next to her. "Ready to head out, 'partner'?" She asked him... and immediately regretted it as Officer Clawhauser let off such a high-pitched, girlish squeal of delight, causing the woman's ears to flatten back in an effort to muffle the noise.

"YOU BET!" The spotted wildcat chirruped happily before blinking his eyes as a thought occurred to him. "Hey! Since we're more or less free, do you want to hit up Bug Burga before we come back to clock out at the station?" He knew she was upset that they were more or less being put on the road because the higher-ups were trying to keep her out of the public eye while giving her a chance to recover from the day's earlier abuse, but that didn't mean the cheetah couldn't make sure she had a good time! As her appointed chaperone he felt it was his sworn duty to make the lovely Latin lady feel welcome in Zootopia!

Carmelita sighed a little, realizing that Benjamin was right. Even if on the clock, they were otherwise, 'free' to do whatever. It both upset and made the vulpine officer feel guilty to know the city was paying her to do nothing if it meant keeping her out of the way. She wasn't exactly happy with the arrangement but considering how the standoff in Bogo's office went with the mayor, she supposed she should be thankful if she was allowed to step into the station tomorrow.

Realizing Officer Clawhauser was still awaiting an answer regarding food, the woman's gaze turned to the digital clock in the dashboard. It was only ten am but she supposed a snack wouldn't hurt. "Sure..." she finally replied. "Although, I must ask: are there any fish outlets in the area?" At the curious look the spotted feline gave her, the vulpine woman explained, "I never was a lover of food comprised of an insect-base, but I'll eat them if I have to. A predator tends to only have so many options..." particularly in Zootopia. At least in other countries, feral beasts were up on the chopping block as part of the evolved animal diet.

Oh, this was going to be a _**long**_ six months without bacon...

Considering that for a moment, the spotted wildcat slowly nodded his head. He preferred fish himself but he could barely get the time to enjoy it during work-hours as he was stationed at the front desk nearly every day; today would be a rare treat indeed! "Hey, I got an idea! If you don't mind a little bit of waiting, I know a food truck that specifically caters to us predators. Chef Louis makes these wonderful tofu hot dogs, bug burgers, fish and chips, and this lovely creamy clam chowder to name a few of his specialties." The man smacked his lips as he thought about that steaming bowl of deliciousness. "In fact, I _could_ go for a bowl of clam chowder..." his eyes widened as a thought came to him. "Oh! And we could also buy some tofu dogs to snack on while we drive around town!"

Raising an eyebrow, the vulpine policewoman considered that for a moment. "Tofu, huh?" The vixen queried as she thought about the tofu she had with Nick, Finnick, and Honey. It had been rather flavorful; perhaps the locals took to mastering the art of crafting such to new heights _because_ of the lack of protein in this city. "Oh, what the hell... I'm game!" She would have preferred fish-based meals if she couldn't get any red meat but really, she would take what she could get in Zootopia! In Carmelita's mind, it sure as hell beat out eating _**bugs**_! The female red fox didn't believe in all that, 'Hakuna Matata' crap some Naturalists spouted... not to mention she certainly worried what eating such would do to her digestion!

Seeing the woman was agreeable to his suggestion, the cheetah's cheeks puffed up as he grinned. "Nice!" The feline cheered happily. "Looks like we're going to Wannabite's!" He chimed out most gleefully. "Okay, you're going to want to take a right out of the garage onto Savanna Street and keep on going to where it becomes Plaza Street at... oh about five or six city blocks. At that point, you'll come to a four-way intersection with North Furton Road and South Furton Road: take the left onto South Furton. Louis normally sets up his truck there and he _should_ still be there. I even saw him this morning when I took Nick out to pick up some breakfast."

That last comment caught the vixen's attention. "Que?" She chirruped sweetly as she turned her head to look at the police officer she was being partnered with... as more or less as her baby-sitter... and questioned, "Is this the same person that made those breakfast burritos?"

Nodding his head, Clawhauser was more than happy to chirrup, "YEP! Louis Jamal or, 'King Louis' is something of a local legend here! Makes the best Gouda-durned predator-centric meals in all Savanna Central; only thing better is Clark Halibut's in the Tundratown District and frankly most mammals–myself included–don't make the kind of money that's required to eat there regularly." He smirked. "Seriously though, I cannot praise this man enough! He makes every other food truck in the city seem like sugar-honey-iced-tea!"

"I see," the woman said slowly in understanding. "Well, at the very least it's a distraction." With that said, the vixen pulled out from the parking space, carefully mading her way through the police garage so as to not hit anything. Once she had driven to the exit, she put the pedal to the metal with the intent of pulling out into and joining traffic. Instead, she ended up rocketing them from the garage a bit quicker than she anticipated thanks to the ungodly amount of horse power and torque the vehicle's twelve-cylinder engine could muster.

It took a bit of doing but eventually Carmelita was able to find a balance so she wasn't, 'lead footing' the gas pedal. Still, it was surprising just how fast this thing could go despite all the weight it had from all the protective plating that covered it. _Armor... power... the city is lucky to have such close ties to Saddle Arabia... this thing would be a finance and logistics nightmare for any other police force_ , she thought seriously. _This thing could probably pass anything on the road_ _ **but**_ _a gas station!_

It took fifteen minutes to get from the Zootopia Police Station to South Furton Road–mostly due to traffic lights–but once they were at their destination, the vulpine was able to pull the massive vehicle up into an open spot alongside the curb at a designated parking meter three cars behind the back the white food truck she could safely assume was this, 'Wannabite's' from how excited her passenger got.

Practically bouncing in his seat, the rotund cheetah practically squealed in delight. "Oh, this is it!" He happily cheered as he began to unclasp his seatbelt. "We're here, Officer Fox! The best place for predators in Savanna Central: Wannabite's!" He pushed the seat belt off of himself and reached over to his right, grasping the interior handle and opening the front passenger door of the police cruiser.

Despite the air of seriousness she tried to keep up, the Latina red fox couldn't help but smile a bit at Benjamin's innocence and naivety. He reminded her a lot of Murray, and in a good way no less. "I suppose you're right, Officer Clawhauser..." she trailed off as the cheetah, ever the sweet guy, walked around to the vehicle's driver's side door and opened it for the female fox.

"Here we are, m'lady," the feline said as he bowed his head to her and extended out his paw to offer her assistance. "May I give you a hand?" He asked with a tone of faux-sophistication to his voice. Obviously the spotted feline was trying to be a good sport about everything that happened at the station and show the canid woman a good time, and that meant doing what he could to coax a laugh out of her when he had the opportunity to.

Nodding her head at the feline's attempt at being kind, the vulpine officer gave him a small but genuine smile as she replied, "Gracias, Officer Clawhauser." She then unbuckled her own seat belt and turned the key in the ignition, cutting the engine. With the vehicle no longer trembling from the pulse of the motor revving up to unleash its power, the vixen was able to carefully slide out of her seat before dropping down and out of the tall police car. Turning about and closing the door, the pair made their way for the line already taking up space on the sidewalk.

Admittedly, it was a bit of an imposing sight–in fact, the already present trail of predatory mammals WAS what had drawn the woman's attention to this being the correct area–but it was nothing _too_ bad. A burly bear in mechanic overalls was already at the counter, and behind him a lioness mother with her two children at either side of her, the small family then followed by a lithe male cheetah that was tapping his foot impatiently as he looked down at his cell phone, then an older timber wolf in a fine suit holding onto a nicely carved wooden cane to help keep him upright, and finally a pair of teenagers who were obviously in a relationship. The last two were of particular interest to the Inspector as they were an interspecies couple. A male hyena that had his arm wrapped around a female rabbit rather affectionately; both of them dressed as though they had stepped out of or were ready for a punk rock concert's mosh pit.

Interestingly, the female rabbit set off Hispanic vixen's Inspector's Intuition. She had no clue WHY the lapin in Goth attire would pique the ingrained ability of the Fox family line but there she was, covered in orange sparkles. It was definitely something the female red fox had to mentally file away for later.

But in having to wait, Carmelita was given a chance to look at the food truck itself. Through the open pair of service windows, she could make out a set of ovens with what looked like eight burners spread out and a warming unit to the left comprised of a fryer at height with the ovens and a microwave above it. Over the set of stove-tops was a vent system that sent the excess heat and the delicious smells of cooked food–that were currently filling the area–out into air around the truck, which made her all that much hungrier. She was a bit shocked at the sight of a sink, which meant it has a water-hookup and drain access somewhere on it, even if she wasn't sure where it led into. _Definitely asking for bottled drinks with no ice_ , she firmly decided.

Although what she wasn't sure about was what the other side of the kitchen due to the line of much taller mammals in the way, the Interpol officer could tell it likely contained both a fridge and counter-top prep area from the shapes she _could_ make out. Overall, the canid policewoman would admit that despite a few dings in the exterior of the vehicle from the rigors of everyday city traffic and the possibly questionable water utilities they would have access to on a street corner, the food truck had a very professional appearance and an interior lay-out designed for maximum efficiency.

Not to mention waiting in line also gave Officer Fox the opportunity see the Menu propped up and pasted to the side of the truck in the space between the two open service windows. There was a listing for things such as tofu dogs, the tofu dog topping options, grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, cheese fries, bug burgers, bug cheeseburgers, something called, 'the bug burger deluxe' with an option for tofu bacon, a tuna melt, fish and chips, a fried fish sandwich, fried clams, New England clam chowder...

...And an advertisement for a seasonal item: lobster rolls!

Needless to say, Carmelita's attention was now drawn directly to the lovely advertisement that was slapped at the bottom of the menu. "Ooh! Lobster rolls sound _quite_ tasty," she chirruped as the feline beside her nodded his head in agreement with that sentiment. "I'm torn between those and fish and chips... I mean, you didn't say this place had so many fish dishes on the menu!" Trying one of the tofu dogs the feline had been going on about might have been interesting but she was definitely in the mood for some good seafood at the moment, and she knew that fried fish and potatoes were always a treat!

Seeing the woman's growing excitement made the larger predator smile, glad the decision for an early lunch was proving to be a good one. This was the happiest he'd seen Miss Fox yet... and the spotted feline was delighted to discover that when she was happy, the red fox's accent had a lovely tone to it that reminded him of Gazelle in all the right ways! "May I suggest both?" He happily supplied, such being his usual answer for whenever he had a tough food choice to make. "Remember we do have to drive around awhile, so you'll want to eat to your heart's content... my treat!" He quickly added after a moment of internal debate. With how people had been stepping on the poor lady, she deserved a little bit of a pick-me-up.

The woman nodded her head. "Muchos gracias, Officer Clawhauser but I'll do my part," she told the taller–and portlier–predator in gratitude before turning her attention to the pair in front of her, managing to get the names, 'Sheena' and 'Glen' from their conversations. Overall, the line was a little bit bothersome but nothing too unbearable; she gone through longer waits with Sly during the Christmas season due to all the holiday shoppers.

Finally, when the interspecies couple left with their grilled cheese sandwiches and orders of cheese fries, the police officers' turn came. Carmelita looked up, going wide-eyed as she saw the mammal behind the counter and obviously manning the food truck was a zebra of all things! He was wearing a white apron over a red, yellow and green tie-dyed t-shirt over his torso, a pair of wide-rimmed pure ebony sunglasses, and on his head was a Rasta dread knit tam hat, the traditional, 'Dreadlocks cap' of Jamaican culture. A large and round black wool knitted hat with red, yellow, and green stripes that went down the right and off center... and he needed it too, considering all the alternating dreadlocks of white and black that hung from his mane. He looked down at the vixen and gave her a smile, showing off a perfect set of pearly white teeth. "Well, well, _**WELL**_! Do my eyes deceive me or is dis little lady da vixen dat was on TV?

Coming up to the food truck beside his fellow police officer, Benjamin flashed the equine inside the food truck a grin. "Hey, King Louis! How's it going?" He raised his right paw and waved it in greeting at the apparent Rastafarian. That right hand then came down on the woman's left shoulder as he answered, "Yep! Officer Fox here is the newest member of the ZPD!"

The equine's eyes widened with delight as he saw who was with her. "Hey, hey, my mommal! I usually don't see you dis time of day! How is you hangin', Benji-boy?" The zebra greeted the spotted feline in a very familiar fashion as he spoke in a rather thick Caribbean accent, the teeth of his smile glistening like the polished ivory tusks of an elephant. He looked down again at the shorter woman with them and queried, "But what is dis, my mommal? When did da ZPD get themselves a fox? I mean, she in da uniform and all!" His lips closed as his smile changed into a smirk. "And lookin' darn good at dat!"

"Oh, she just joined up today," the pudgy predator replied with a wide smile of his own. He looked up at the equine behind the counter of truck and back to the vulpine beside him before inquiring, "If you would both allow me to make some proper introductions?" Seeing the pair nod their heads, the feline turned his head towards the zebra. "Louis, meet Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox, the spiciest officer I've ever met!" He smiled at the vixen. "And Carm, meet Louis Stripeamol... or as he's known better on the streets: King Louis the Wannabite!"

That title made the blue-tressed vulpine blink her eyes once, twice, thrice. "Wannabite?" She inquired with a curious tone. "Why are you called, 'The Wannabite'?" 

The zebra let off a hearty laugh in response to both the cheetah's energetic introduction and the confusion on the vixen's face. "Old nickname from me childhood. Comes from growin' up in a predominantly predator neighborhood. Da other kids, dey always called me a Wannabe Pred or, 'Wannabite' because I couldn't help but, 'want a bite' of da local faire..." his smile became rather lopsided. "Da Neighbors loved when I would attend da block cookouts. Was a joke at first but then dey realized I was purty good." He leaned into the service window, arms folded and elbows on the counter, his right hoop tapping on it. "But dat's enough about me. Onto more important t'ings! What you be havin', me good mommals?"

The vulpine didn't have an immediate answer, as her attention was still drawn to the equine himself. Officer Fox had to admit she was rather surprised by the fact that it was a zebra cooking food for predators! She had seen predators serving up meals for prey mammals but **never** the other way around given the obvious taboo. Even if it wasn't sentient life, he was serving up animal protein as chow for preds to sink their teeth into. Most prey animals across the world were _still_ uncomfortable preparing such and were often seen as unsavory for doing so.

This King Louis had a lot of guts to be doing so in Zootopia of all places!

Seeing the flash of various emotions across the woman's face, the zebra nodded his head in understanding, knowing all too well what she was probably thinking. "What can I say?" He chuckled. "Iffin' a fox can be spittin' in da eye of stereotypes, why can't a zebra?" He gave her a kindly smile before raising his head up to look at the cheetah. "Hey, Benji! Do you know what de little lady be having?"

"Well..." the corpulent cop began to speak before taking a moment to consider the woman's earlier comments in the tank-like cruiser. "I think Carmelita wants a big basket of your fish and chips but..." he looked over at the vixen and smiled in a gleeful manner. "Do you have enough lobster to make a couple of rolls for her too?"

Straightening up, the hoofed mammal smiled. "Why of course, da very best dis side of the country!" Louis said, the striped equine puffing up with pride. "In fact, I'll be a nice guy and give her a buy one get one free deal for it being her first day and all." He turned his attention back to the pudgy feline. "And yourself, me mommal?"

A smile split across the chubby cheetah's muzzle. "Oh, I'll take a bowl of New England clam chowder, two grilled cheese sandwiches–add a slice of tomato to both–and I'll take..." he trailed off, pursing his lips together as he thought about it. "Oh... a dozen tofu dogs and some fixin's on the side for them if you can. We're going to be driving around awhile and will need to keep up our strength! And... make it two rhino-sized bottles of water?" 

Raising one of her navy blue eyebrows at that comment, the vixen realized even Officer Clawhauser knew to avoid the fountain drinks. Either her fellow officer had made the same observation she did... or he experienced it firsthand from being a regular at some point.

"Sure me mommol, sure!" The zebra chimed as he came around to the other service window and turned towards the cash register he had sitting there. The dreadlocked equine began tallying up the prices and ringing in the sales tax. "Dat'll be fifty-six dollars and thirty cents!"

The cheetah couldn't help but whistle at the price tag. "That's a bit steep!" In comparison, Clawhauser knew he could get a dozen breakfast burritos for under twenty-five dollars in the morning. The price jump for the lunch prices was staggering!

The Rastafarian zebra let off a small snort. "Hey now, da Lobster Rolls are twenty bucks a pop and da little lady is getting one free, so don't you try to haggle me on dis, Benji-boy," the equine proprietor and cook replied.

Nodding his head, the feline cop murmured, "Okay, okay..." he said as he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet to retrieve a pair of dollars bills: a fifty and a ten. "Keep the cha~HEY!" He cried out as the vulpine was holding out the same thing. "Now, come on, Officer Fox... this is my treat to you. Let me pay, all right?"

Ignoring the indignant cry of her fellow office, Carmelita merely continued to hold out her own cash as well. She had to admit that she wasn't especially fond of being called a, 'little lady' or 'my mommal' but she let it slide for now. The food certainly smelled good and the fact that the line had built up again behind them suggested that this food truck was popular and there had to be a reason for that. She was very much looking forward to eating once they were in the car.

Admittedly though, she had been caught off guard if not outright surprised that the bill was as steep as it was, that it took her a moment to realize the feline wanted to straight up pay for the entire thing. He'd said so earlier but she was certain the cheetah would have caught onto the fact that she could handle herself. "Now Officer Clawhauser..." the red fox began, only to see the man hold up his other hand, his left index finger pointed up as he wagged it in a chiding motion.

"Now, now Officer Fox... you're the one who's had the rough morning. Please allow me to treat you to something nice." He smiled down at the petite red fox once more, telling her, "Anyone who is a friend of the Nick's is a friend of mine. And I treat my friends like family." 

That little comment caught the canid woman's attention. That was rather kind of the feline policeman to say. He barely knew her and yet he was willing to go out of his way to be kind and gentlemanly by offering to pay for her meal. _Honestly, if more mammals were like Benjamin here, I don't think this Initiative or I would be needed_ , she thought before offering him a kind smile. "That is generous of you, Officer Clawhauser but I try to be independent. What kind of woman claims to want equality and then goes demanding that men pay for her meals?"

The spotted wildcat blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. That was a rather good point she made. "I know... but... maybe I want to?" He offered with a nervous grin. Benjamin wasn't about to force the issue but the plump feline did want her to know that he wanted to make things easier for her, all things considered

"Look me mommals," the striped equine spoke up, getting the attention of both members of the ZPD. "I personally don't care who pays but would you guys please do it quickly? Da line is getting longer and da customers, they be growin' hungrier!" And from his time living on West Fang Drive, there was nothing scarier than an irritable hungry predator.

Turning her head, Carmelita went wide-eyed as she saw the amount of the gathered predators had practically _**doubled**_ since she last checked. Felines, canines, and ursine of all ages and styles of dress, indicating their varied walks of life–including a group that looked like a camera crew if the equipment they were holding was any indication–were gathered one after another behind the pair of officers. There were even a few varied other species, like a pair of raccoon teenagers, a pair of badgers in electrician jumpsuits and tool-belts, and even a tusked boar was waiting amongst them for their turn at the Wannabite's counter.

Seeing that, yes, a considerable wait had begun, the woman shifted her attention to her fellow police officer who in turn tilted his head down to return the look. "Split fifty-fifty?" She finally offered.

Returning the fifty dollar bill to his wallet, the chubby cheetah agreed, "Fifty-fifty." He then flipped through some bills before pulling free a twenty. He reached his right hand up to the counter, placing it beside the equine on the other side of the service window before the vixen beside him stood on her toes and reached up, placing her own set of bills on it that matched his own. "Keep the change, Louis," he replied, watching as the zebra brought his right hoofed hand up to take the money and bring it over to the cash register. "All righty. Now you two just wait a moment while I get everything together!" The equine chimed as he went to work.

Carmelita found it interesting to watch the man show off his culinary skill; the Clam Chowder had been the easiest to prepare as Louis kept it simmering in a pot and ready to serve. Good thing too, as it kept Benjamin quiet and eating happily while the vixen gaze on. Slices of bread went into pans as the man sliced a fresh tomato and a block of cheese at the prep station before setting them onto the bread. He then to the fridge and used another butcher's knife to split tofu dogs. The zebra then took out a bowl of pre-mixed lobster and mayonnaise before putting the contents into one of the currently empty frying pans on the stove top.

The aroma was heaven.

The vixen now understood why people crowded the service counter whenever their turn was up. It was simply amazing to watch him prepare food–the mammal proving he understood the art of showmanship! Each movement timed expertly, not a moment or move wasted! It was almost a shame that he was done within five minutes and returned to them with their order. "Thank you and come again!" He chimed merrily.

"We will if we can," the portly cheetah replied as he reached forward and placed the now empty Styrofoam bowl and used plastic spoon on the counter before taking a plastic bag in either hand. He turned about and motioned with a nod of his head for the vixen to walk back to the cruiser with him, the pair getting out of the way of the next mammals in line so that other hungry predators could order their own lunches.

As she made her way for the driver's side of the vehicle, the woman questioned, "So, do you eat here often, Officer Clawhauser?" The zebra certainly seemed to be quite familiar with the feline.

"Like I said earlier, as often as I can..." he chuckled as he carried the two plastic bags filled with protein goodness and one with their large water bottles to the vehicle. "Sadly, he has a strict rule about serving eggs after ten am. Unless he saw you in line before the cutoff time then King Louis won't do it, like, at all! Not even on a bug burger!" He sighed most sadly. "I think it's his way of making sure people come early if they want to experience the nirvana that is his breakfast specialties." As the woman opened the door for him, the feline shrugged his shoulders. "Still, it's not too bad. I rather _enjoy_ his grilled cheese sandwiches! Especially when I can get them with tomato slices!" He licked his lips. "It adds a nice meaty texture to it... gives me the sensation my body craves."

Smirking as she watched the man load the bags into the car, the Hispanic vulpine couldn't help but joke, "I thought that's what you got all those tofu dogs for."

"Variety is always needed for food," the large cheetah replied in a surprisingly solemn manner. "Without it, things would get dull." He brought his right hand to his chest, motioning to himself. "Why, not even I can survive on sugar alone! Even I need some nice dairy and protein to keep my bones and pearly whites healthy and strong!"

Mulling over that, the vixen nodded her head. If the man were on a solely sugar-based diet, his teeth would have rotted out of his skull long ago. "You do have a point," the Hispanic vixen eventually relented. "Even if you have your favorite meal, you can't eat it all the time without getting tired of it." It was why as much as she loved Sly's waffles, she couldn't put up with them EVERY morning... even when the raccoon changed up the flavored syrups he used for topping.

"Righty-o!" The portly police officer replied as he got into the police cruiser on the passenger's side. He smiled as he pulled out a box with condiments from one of the two white plastic bags and smiled. "Yep! All the essentials for a good tofu dog! A choice between yellow and brown mustards, some ketchup, sweet relish, and he even gave us a small tub of saur kraut!" The feline couldn't help but giggle in excitement. "Oh my, I cannot remember the last time I got to eat here for lunch that wasn't a day off! This is gonna be great!" He chirruped merrily as he brought his hands near his face and balled them up into fists; a sparkle of delight shimmering in his eyes.

Opening the driver's side door and climbing in, the navy blue-haired vixen raised an eyebrow in curiosity at her current partner's excitement. Carmelita watched as the portly feline began to grasp one of the ketchup packets between his two massive paws and frowned as he began tugging on it rather roughly. "Careful now, Officer Clawhauser. Just because I'm allowing you to eat in here doesn't mean you can go about it all willy-nilly!" She told him in all seriousness. "This cruiser is going to be my personal transport for the foreseeable future and I'd rather not have to clean up any messes I didn't cause."

The spotted wildcat blinked his eyes as he consider what she said. "Good point..." he murmured as he lowered his paws. "I understand. It's not like the interiors of these things are made out of durasteel or something," the cheetah muttered before rolling the window down and hanging the plastic bag with all the condiments outside of the car. "This way if anything breaks open, it will least it comes off in a car wash."

The vulpine blinked her eyes as he improvised with the door-handle and the plastic bag's handles, using the two plastic extensions of the bag to keep the excess toppings outside while he ate one of his orders. Watching the feline male retrieved and begin to partake of a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, the Latina vixen nodded her head as she kept her door slightly ajar so she could exist easily enough when it came time to throw everything out. So reaching over into the bag between them and holding a box with her lobster roll, Officer Fox stared at it for a moment. "Be that as it may," she began to speak. "Whether the inside was or wasn't metal, I would rather _not_ have to hose out the inside of this thing... let alone the outside," the canid cop said pointedly.

Benjamin nodded his head in agreement. "Nu kheffeeng," was his muffled response, the spotted feline's mouthful of molten cheese and toasted bread; sending crumbs flying onto the dashboard with his breath. Seeing the smaller woman glare at him, the male cop pursed his lips together before swallowing fully. He then spoke with a much crisper tone, "No kidding. I mean, I've seen videos of why we should be careful speeding in these things. The exterior's dense enough to make mammals my size simply explode into giblets if we were hit head on at full speed!"

Carmelita blinked her eyes at that bit of information and brought her hand to her muzzle. She idly tapped her chin in thought before letting off a small giggle.

That caught the cheetah odd-guard. He didn't expect such information to make the officer laugh. "What?" He chirruped, obviously confused.

Smirking, the vulpine replied, "This had to be what they based those GTA videogames around."

The cheetah blinked his eyes in surprise at such an assumption... before cracking a smile and letting out a roaring bout of laughter. "Wow! I didn't think of that," he murmured in awe. "I mean, it's possible to do that in the game... at least, all the versions except the one sold at the Outback Island District... but I didn't think they pulled it out of the same physics simulation tests that came from the creation of our police cruisers..." he chuckled. "I mean... wow! Just wow! Do you think I could honestly put, 'game developer' down on my resume because of this?"

Shaking her head, the woman politely told him, "I wouldn't quit my day job if I were you. Personally? I think you're doing fine just as you are, Officer Clawhauser." She meant it too. He was surprisingly cheerful, despite the tedium and drudgery of dispatch. It was difficult to keep up that level of positive energy in such a situation and yet he kept on trucking.

A big warm smile appeared on the spotted feline's features, causing his grinning face to appear extra doughy. "Awww... that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me! Right up there with the time Chief Bogo told me I did a, 'good job on the coffee'!"

The Latina red fox looked at the larger predator in shock. She understood he probably wouldn't hear much in the way of positive reinforcement due to him being a predatory mammal, but to hear he got so little recognition? That was some seriously messed up crap.

The vulpine policewoman might have felt better if she realized that's just how Bogo was to **everyone** but she had still yet to learn that little truth.

However, had Carmelita not been looking at Clawhauser in shock and worrying for him, she _might_ have noticed a rather large and shifty individual looking around suspiciously before walking up beside the Wannabite's food truck. Coming around the corner, the massive rhino in black t-shirt and camouflage pants looked to his left and right for a moment as he made his way up to the line currently comprised of predatory mammals, most of whom were considerably smaller than he was.

Realizing after a moment that the vixen in the driver's seat had her attention on him, the cheetah took a moment to swallow his bite of food. "What?" He asked in all curiousness. "It's not like I get out on the streets all that often for my job," he readily admitted. "Besides, I'm a _**REAL**_ good animal person. I can deal with mammals who are rude, just plain loud, in crabby moods, upset over genuine reasons, you name it! I keep a smile on my face, a song in my heart, and my disposition SUNNY!" HE smiled as wide as he could, showing off all his pearly-white fangs.

"...How you manage to do it in Zootopia, I have no clue... but you're a Goddamn miracle, Officer Clawhauser," the woman praised him with genuine awe. If anything, the female red fox felt the rotund feline should have been the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative.

In response, the happy-go-lucky cheetah smiled at her. "If I don't keep myself happy, I'd probably be depressed." It was a sad thing to admit, but he shrugged before continuing. "Besides, the world's serious and sad enough as it is! Everyone should strive to be happy and/or silly as much as possible!" It was his motto. After all, life tended to kick people in the nuts often enough, even if they were women! So why not try to smile as much as possible?

Considering the man's outlook for a moment, Carmelita couldn't help but eventually nod her head in understanding. Benjamin had probably grown up during the tail end of the electric collar era in the city and it tilted his own views on the world slightly. "Despite my own reservations, I must admit that's rather mature of you, Officer Claw—"

Before Benjamin could reply, a scream interrupted the two officers, the pair looking on ahead through the windshield of the car to see a tall rhinoceros pushing down at least three predators at a time–one of which was holding a camcorder–before he merely grabbed Louis' register in both his massive hands and took off running down the street in the opposite direction.

"Shit! Smash and grab!" The vixen hissed as she tossed aside the box with her lobster roll and kicked out with her left steel-toe boot to swing the door to her side open. "Clawhauser! Call in a robbery! I'm pursuing on foot!" She snapped as she pushed herself out of the vehicle and began running as soon as she hit the ground, travelling in the direction the large horned herbivore went.

The feline shrieked at the women just throwing herself into the fray without a second thought, despite her injuries she attained from, 'mysterious sources' as Chief Bogo had explained. Realizing after a few seconds she _had_ shouted instructions at him, the man quickly dropped the other half of his grilled cheese sandwich back into the wax papers it had been wrapped with as his hands began fiddling with the radio. "Officer Clawhauser to Dispatch! 10-5, Dispatch! We have a 62b! Officer Fox in pursuit! I repeat! Officer Fox is in pursuit and I can't drive this vehicle!" He wailed as he looked down at all the pedals that would have jammed him in the crotch and a steering wheel plunged into his stomach if he tried to get behind the driver's seat.

The radio crackled with static before a male voice came over the line. "10-4, Dispatch reads you. Where are you at, Officer Clawhauser?"

"South Furton Road in Savanna Central!" The man shouted as he pressed up against the windshield, watching as the pair disappeared on the horizon. "Suspect is continuing in a southern direction! I think the big guy intends to create an 11-15!"

Indeed, the rhino was practically charging down the center of the road now, the cash register tucked under his arm as he crossed over into a busy intersection and kept going, making vehicles swerve around him and into each other if not onto the sidewalk causing property damage; the jerk even kicked one smaller rodent vehicle out of the way with his foot in mid-step like it were a soccer ball. He didn't care about the destruction he left in his wake, as all he needed to do was get to Lions Gate! He could easily lose any pursuit amongst the heavily populated throngs of mammals there. It had been a tactic that served him well for a long time when it came to his smash and grabs.

However, the petty crook was in for a rude awakening when he heard an angry female voice call out, "STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" The scream sounded out not all that far from behind him.

Taking the risk to look over his shoulder for a moment at his pursuer, the horned mammal mentally scoffed as he caught sight a vulpine of all things chasing him. _Foolish fox_ , he mentally grumbled and put more effort into his sprint, running even harder. There was no way he was going to be stopped by the cops, even less by some mangy vixen of all things! What were the police even thinking, letting a friggin' mammal more crooked than he was wear a badge?

As the larger prey mammal started to make a considerable gain in distance between them, Carmelita grit her teeth and began pumping her legs harder to keep up with the rhino who charged in the opposite direction in an effort to make his escape. "STOP OR I WILL RESORT TO THE USE OF FORCE!" She shouted in warning, hoping that would stop the nose-horned perp! The longer he kept on running, the more damage he was likely to cause along the way.

The smash and grab thug snorted through his large nostrils at the measly threat. Oh yeah, like **he** was afraid of some dinky little tranquilizer dart. The standard ones the police were stocked with had nowhere near the punching power needed to actually break through **his** skin. All he had to do was keep running; the tiny mammal would get worn out eventually. This was, after all, a world where the strongest survived! And he was strong! Practically rock-steady, even!

It was almost too bad someone like him was lowered to working he worked with a porcupine and a boar but still! It was good exercise and money! Truly, he was living the Zootopian dream!

As the larger mammal ignored her command, the Latina vulpine began to see **red**. "Okay, that's it!" Officer Fox yelled angrily, "I gave you fair warning!"

His ears rising up as that voice sounded closer than it should have been, the rhino looked back again and was actually shocked at what he saw. The damned copper was somehow _**gaining**_ on him. _What kind of freak is this Chomper!?_ He thought angrily as he pushed himself harder, working his muscles even more to the point where he actually began to sweat. The increased force also caused the ground shake with each pounding step he took. "Just step off, lady!" He shouted back at the pursuing policewoman. "Something as tiny as you can't keep up with me forever!" He snarled as he bowled on through a glass pane a pair of window repair-mammals had just taken out of their truck to fit into a nearby shop's front display.

As fragments of glass went flying everywhere while onlookers screamed and started to move away from the free-flying glass, the Hispanic vixen growled in rage at the mammal's blatant disregard for the lives of others. " **Final warning**!" The woman belted out. "Your flight and destruction of private property ends now or there will be **consequences**!" She screamed at the fleeing herbivore as her right hand already withdrew her favorite crimson device from its holster in one smooth motion while the Latina red fox brought her finger on the trigger and pressed down. In response, a hum of energy began kicking in as she charged up a shot.

The larger savanna herbivore laughed heartily at the threat, not even bothering to look back at her. "Your mama was a snow-blower!" The rhino bellowed out, taunting her.

At the obviously specist remarks towards Arctic vixens, the woman's angered frown turned into an outright glare of righteous fury. She didn't know what was worse: being mocked with a fox stereotype or that even in being a specist asshole, the jerk couldn't even get it straight! "Friggin' idiot," Officer Fox huffed as she stopped running, the soles of her boots skidding before she came to a half. Taking careful aim, the vulpine released her finger's hold on the trigger. In response, a pulsing shot rang out as an electrified current discharged from the weapon, the blast immediately filling the surrounding area with a heady aroma of burnt ozone; the streaking energy obviously iodizing the air as it traveled through it to hit the culprit in the center of his back.

Upon impact, the rhinoceros went stock still for a split second before he went sailing forward, the man violently shaking as the jolt of energy coursed through him. His brain losing its ability to communicate signals to the rest of his body, the horned prey mammal went falling through the air thanks to the initial momentum from his charge before he finally came crashing down harshly. The cash register went flying from his outstretched grasp on impact and bounced across the sidewalk as if the large herbivore had been trying to skip a stone across a lake's surface.

Laying there in an undignified heap as steam came rolling off his thick skin, the herbivore felt incredibly dizzy from the sudden crash landing. "Durr... I don't like dose stankin' toitles..." he groaned deliriously in his pained state of delirium.

Calmly walking up to the now downed culprit, the woman gazed down at him. "Don't worry. There are no turtles around here, big guy... you are, however under arrest for theft, resisting arrest, and destruction of public property. You have the right to remain silent—"

"I can't feel my legs..."

Ignoring the larger rhino's complaint, the vulpine officer continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

Raising his head, the horned herbivore asked, "Can I get one from Baxter and Stockman?"

Shaking her head, Carmelita calmly replied, "Probably not. You would be getting an attorney that works for the state. I don't know who Baxter and Stockman are but I would be willing to bet they're a private firm and such is out of the Zootopia's purview."

The downed petty thief pouted. "Aww... nuts..."

The two weren't alone for long however, as a certain presence made itself known. "Off... huff... puff... hooo... haaa... Officer Fox!' Clawhauser ran up, his belly jiggling with his motions as his tongue was hanging out while he panted. "I... came... to~ooooh..." the tuckered out feline fell backwards with a loud thud, looking just as out of it as the rhino who had gotten a taste of the vixen's trusty shock pistol. "Ooooh... why do my legs hurt so much?"

Carmelita blinked her eyes in surprise, outright shocked as her fellow officer of the ZPD crashed onto the sidewalk. "Officer Clawhauser? Are you all right?" She asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"I... I will..." the overweight and out of shape policeman said between huffs and puffs of much needed air. "Just... _wheeze_... just give me a second. Been a..." he couched out. "Been awhile since I ran... that... hard..." he looked up at her with a pleading expression. "Why... why didn't we just... chase after him in the car!?" He wailed. "It had... speed and... and air-conditioning!"

Bending over and meeting the fallen officer's gaze, the female red fox politely explained, "Officer Clawhauser I just got that car! I wasn't about to put any scratches, let alone major dents in it by running down a criminal of this low caliber."

"I take offense to that..." the rhino said from his place on the asphalt. "Can I get up now?"

Narrowing her eyes, the vixen turned about, giving the perpetrator her attention as she threatened, "Do you _want_ another shot of my shock pistol?"

The larger herbivore shuddered at the thought. "...No..." he finally squeaked out.

"THEN STAY DOWN!" She snapped irritably at the perp. "Officer Clawhauser here called for a pickup transport..." she turned her gaze once more to look at the cheetah as he lay on the sidewalk, his clothes sticking to him thanks to all of his sweat. "I mean, you _DID_ put in a call for one, right?"

The chubby cheetah nodded his head, his belly jiggling as he tried to suck as much air in as possible. "I got... hack..." he coughed. "I got four... huff... squads!" He finally managed to croak out. "They should be... here... ten minutes." The poor feline mewled pathetically. "Ugh. Talking like... Willion Shatner." 

As soon as he said that, a van started to pull up close to the group... however, it wasn't one of the ZPD's, oh no... this was a white communications vehicle that had a satellite dish, numerous antennae, and various electronics on the roof while the body was covered with the red ZNN logo plastered on either side and the back doors as part of its paint job. Almost as soon as it was fully parked, the back doors opened and out stepped a male jaguar.

Carmelita had to blink her eyes as the man was somewhat familiar. The feline predator was covered in a golden-pelt with brown ring patterns and had bright green eyes, albeit such was sight rather common for his breed. However, he was _**immaculately**_ dressed, the mammal decked out in a nice pin-stripe black suit with royal purple tie and matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. He appeared gentlemanly and prominent but nothing over the top; just enough for the man to appear as a clean and professional individual. What _was_ unique however, was the mammal's upper right whisker. It wasn't uniform with the rest that were straight and slightly droopy, instead darting off higher and out like a porcupine's quill.

It was the whisker that immediately caught her attention and made the vulpine officer realize exactly who this was. "Excuse me... are you Boi Chá? ZNN's Latin American Correspondent?"

The mammal nodded his head at the sound of the female voice. "Sí, Señorita. We were at the food truck waiting to pick up some lunch when that man down there," he motioned to the rhinoceros with his paw. "He went and bowled some of us over to grab the zebra's... register... and..." he trailed off, blinked his eyes in surprise as he got a good look at the woman he was talking to. "Say! You're Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox, aren't you!?" He inquired in genuine surprise. The feline newscaster was pretty sure but he had to be certain.

Keeping her expression calm, the vulpine officer carefully nodded her head in affirmation. Even as she did, she couldn't help but wonder just how badly _this_ was going to go.

The smile that blossomed across the Hispanic jaguar's muzzle was absolutely ecstatic. "Wonderful! This is absolutely perfect! We _need_ to get an interview with you!"

Carmelita blinked her eyes as she slowly processed what she'd been asked. "An interview?" She finally repeated, making certain she heard that right.

Nodding his head, the feline predator excitedly replied, "Sí! Of course! Everyone, and I do mean **everyone** is talking about you right now! We all had so many questions and you were just carted off unceremoniously by the mayor!" He held up his right hand, bringing his microphone in close to her as not one but TWO camera-mammals began to climb out of the vehicle. "So may we ask those questions here? Please?"

A smile slowly spread across the woman's muzzle. "Sure... I would enjoy that..." she turned to look over at the downed cheetah and grinned in a more whimsical manner. "As long as you don't mind making sure my friend here gets some accreditation for his assistance in all of this. Best backup a woman could ask for."

"Aww... gee... thanks..." the pudgy feline replied. "Just... just five more minutes. Be right... up as… as soon as I _can_!" He gasped that last word out.

Blinking his eyes a couple of times as he only then noticed the Zootopia police officer laying on the sidewalk, the jaguar leaned in towards his fallow Latin mammal and quietly asked, "Miss... is he going to be okay?" He was trying to be sensitive about the man's weight but he couldn't help but worry.

"He will be, just give him a moment..." she replied, the smile of her face practically devious in a fashion that only foxes were capable of attaining. Oh, she was going to get back at Mayor Lionheart **SO** hard with this... 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As a set of elevator doors opened, a blue-suited leonine politician stepped out from enclosure and onto the carpeted top floor of City Hall with a noticeably visible limp. Normally being there was just an everyday affair for the feline, business as usual as it were. However, receiving that text while he was trying to get Chief Bogo to see things his way made him realize that the most important thing at the moment wasn't playing damage control at the police station... it was coordinating damage control at Zootopia's seat of legislation!

Doing his best to suppress the shudder he could feel from the chill that was traveling along his spine, the thick mane-adorned predator took the left down the hall, the direction opposite of his familiar and comforting office, towards the section of the building where he _wasn't_ the loudest, let alone the most important voice to be had. Oh yes, Mayor Lionheart was not looking forward to this meeting with... the Zootopia City Council.

The City Council was the nine mammal legislative body–including him–that governed their fair city. It was these upstanding men and women of wealth and influence who proposed bills, held votes, and passed laws to help govern Zootopia and make sure it ran smoothly and efficiently.

And Leodore absolutely _loathed_ the fact that when it came to actually getting anything done in any of the Districts let alone the city as a whole, he was beholden to **them**. 

Normally Zootopia's mayor was the mammal who served as the Chairman of the City Council and was granted not only the traditional voting rights but the more important **veto** power over city legislation... however, that depended on the actual vote count. To get the executive position, one had to attain the most votes of anyone, be it the mayoral ballot or for someone running for a council position outright. So while the leonine politician had managed to unseat former Fifty-First Mayor Randolph Buckington to become Zootopia's first predator mayor... he did **not** have the majority of overall votes. Oh no, there were not one but _**two**_ council members that attained more votes on the council ballot forms than he did in the race for mayor against the reigning red deer, something which usually wasn't the case. So instead of being top dog as it were, the honor of being the Council President and Speaker fell to someone else in the party...

And it was Head Councilman Hornaday that summoned him and the other members of the City Council to this emergency meeting.

 _Okay Lionheart. Stiff upper lip now; you are Mayor of Zootopia! Poise and grace!_ The feline bureaucrat thought as he brought his paws to the handles on either of the twin doors that lead into the council chambers and gripped tightly. Hopefully Hornaday and he would have gotten there before everyone else arrived so he could speak with the herbivore in private. Considering the timing of this emergency meeting, the lion had a distinct feeling what this was about and he wanted a chance to explain his innocence to the man before he would have to be scrutinized by the council. Truly, this whole thing about a fox given municipal authority wasn't **his** fault!

As soon as he pushed the doors inward into the expansive board room filled with a surprising level of refinery and luxury, such as furniture of expensive woods and modern electronic conveniences, the mane-adorned feline's hopes were dashed. Not only were he and Mr. Hornaday not alone but the _entire council_ _ **was already present**_! All eyes turned to him upon his entry and the lion couldn't help but gaze around at all the faces that made up the legislative body of their fair city-state.

On the right side of the length rectangular piece of furniture were the Conservatives. In the seat closest to the head of the table where the lion would be seated was Mr. Edward Velveteen, a longtime resident of the Tundratown District. Being the President of the frigid district's Snow Bank, Mr. Velveteen was a considerable presence in the city, despite being a lapin. As an Arctic hare, the bunny politician was one of the largest lagomorphs, putting his size on par with a red fox, albeit with ears shorter than other lapin species and a slightly chubbier frame to protect him against the cold. He was all business in a black suit and tie with white dress shirt, the only color on him being the gold chain on the coat pocket that indicated he had a watch in there.

After the rabbit and to his right was a rather portly individual that lived up to a lot of the pig stereotypes. Mr. Ronald O'Hoggish was an obese porcine of Southern heritage with strong Christian values and a hell of a lot of money... particularly since he was the President of the Piggy Bank, a firm that had grown in presence over the past two decades in the Downtown District thanks to being one of the first financial institutions in the city to actually accept predators as clients. He was decked out in a green suit, the pants pressed tight against his skin and the jacket left unbuttoned, as well as a white dress shirt. The neck of the shirt was forcefully kept closed with a black lacquered chord and silver-capped bolo tie. Overall, his appearance was a strong indicator of his corpulence and access to resources. The man was lacking nothing to live a rich lifestyle and he knew how to throw his weight around... figuratively **and** literally!

Fortunately, it appeared Mr. O'Hoggish was abiding by the council's ruling that he be clean before entering. Lionheart lost count of the number of times the pig had simply waltzed in there covered in mud, leaving stains the room's carpeting in his wake.

At the end of the row of Conservative mammals was the City Council's long-runner, Mr. Jumbo Loans; the massive male mammal decked out in his traditional blue suit with white shirt and solid red tie to invoke classical patriotism. With his long trunk, large ear and tusks, the massive elephant was said to smell all, hear all, and speak with a silver tongue. He was the current head of Zootopia's Conservative Party and had been since the hay-day of the Sheep Party, back when Sahara Square was still a primarily a reptile district. And while he was still a staunch politician with clear-cut ambition, the pale gray to his skin, the sinking of his eyes that now required glasses, and the yellowing of his overgrown incisors made it perfectly clear that the elephantidae was showing his age. Still, he kept a sharp mind running Sahara Savings and was in good with the camel population there thanks to having been one of the mammals that spearheaded the Saddle Arabian Peace Accord; right alongside Zootopia's Forty-Ninth Mayor Gerald Hippopottus and OPEC Representative Lord Kahmal Punjob the Second.

Which made it no surprise that to the large Herbivore's left and sitting at the head of the table opposite of Lionheart's seat was the single nominee of Zootopia's Independent party to make it onto the council, Mr. Kahmal Punjob the Third. The even-toed ungulate was something of a local celebrity, particularly within Sahara Square thanks to his father's involvement with strengthening ties between Zootopia and Saddle Arabia. It was also his family that had founded the famed Golden Palm Resort that became one of the city's stunning landmarks, which he was the currently the primary owner of after his father's passing the previous Autumn. However, unlike his dear old dad, Kahmal was more into modern fashion... particularly with the full white hoof-tailored silk suit with a silver stud in his left earlobe and the massive cigar that hung from the left corner of his lips was proof of that...

...Although he _did_ share his father's taste in jet-black Ray Bunny sunglasses.

And then on the side of the table opposite all of the right-leaning mammals were the members of Zootopia's Liberal Party. The line beginning from the back and off to the Independent camel's right was Mr. Woodrow Chipper aka 'Woody' to his friends. The groundhog came from a long line of left-leaning large rodents who tried to instill pure 50's American beliefs into the modern youth through childhood programs such as the Bunny Scouts and the Junior Ranger Scouts, which were kept going strong and funded by the Chipper family and their own loan offices of Daylight Savings and Loans–a company which Woodrow served as a senior member of. Decked out in a designer green suit with four leaf clover pin on the lapel and a red tie over a yellow shirt, the petite marmot was practically trying to invoke the symbolism of the boy and girl clubs of America... it was a tactic that had kept him on the city council for four terms now and his thumb on the pulse of Zootopia.

Coming forward a seat was the rather lovable Mrs. Harriet Beaver, the semiaquatic rodent decked out in a smart pink suit that invoked former first lady Jacqueline Kenneighdy. She was something of a, 'Team Mom' as she was always so polite, sweet, and ladylike to everyone she met, able to put out a, 'mother knows best' vibe to any debates. With such a skill, the woman was able to get people to donate to worthy causes like school sports programs and general funding, particularly the clients of the River Bank in the Rainforest District that she could guilt into doing so. As the President of that particular finance business, she made sure that each and every accountholder knew every charity event in the city was going on so they could happily give 'til it hurt. After all, they wouldn't want to upset Mrs. Beaver.

Coming closer to Leodore's seat and to Mrs. Beaver's right was the only other woman on the City Council and the North American Beaver's polar opposite. Proudly self-proclaimed third-wave Feminist, the middle-aged Ms. Monica Harshwhinny was dressed well enough in a blue blazer and skirt with white frilled shirt and ascot and smart blue glasses. As the President of the Zootopia branch of the international banking firm J.P. Mare-Gan, she had to be to put on a sense of professionalism. A pure-bred mustang that could trace her lineage back to the Iberian horses of Spain, she was bilingual and able to rouse up the rhetoric amongst not only most of the female mammals in the city, but its Hispanic population as well! More than enough support to get such a rather outspoken equine firebrand elected into a position of legislation again and again.

And finally, in the seat closest to the head of the table with Leodore's chair and seated opposite of Mr. Velveteen was Head Councilman William Hornaday himself. Current head of the Liberal Party and President of the City Council thanks to getting the most votes this past election, the greater kudu was one of the more unique individuals at the table. A reddish-brown pelt with white chevron that ran between his eyes, the same color as the goatee that few from his throat and chin, the woodland antelope had two large horns that extended into two and a half twists making them considerably fiercer than either of Mr. Jumbo Loans' yellowed tusks, despite the two being of similar age. Dressed in a fine black velvet suit with white shite and golden tie, the President of the Zootopia National Bank–the city's first and longest-running financial institution–looked very much the part of a professional bureaucrat.

The African bovidae blinked his eyes as he stared out at the leonine politician he outranked in this setting and gave him a malicious smile. "Ah, Mayor Lionheart. I'm so glad you could join us so promptly. Fifteen minutes is a new record for you." He chuckled as he took the small cigarette out of his mouth with his right hand and placed it onto the crystalline ash tray set on the table in front of him before his hooved digits motions over to the empty chair at the head of the table. "Now come, Mayor Lionheart. Take a seat. There is much we need to discuss..."

The lion gulped nervously, realizing that this couldn't be good. "Ah yes... about that Chairman Hornaday! You see—"

" **Mayor Lionheart** ," the greater kudu repeated the leonine politician's name firmly. "I said, take a seat," he told the feline, his hand still extended and motioning to the empty chair to his right once more.

Leodore did his best to fight down the cringe he could feel wanting to make its way to his face. He had to appear calm and professional before his peers, after all. "Yes, yes..." the mayor grumbled as he took his seat. There was no use in beating around the bush so he might as well get on with his verbal lashing. "Shall we skip the pleasantries and get down to business?"

A snort sounded from the other end of the table. "What's this? Actually getting matters at hoof? Why, that's not like you at all, Mayor. I'd be _**lion**_ if I said I wasn't at least a little bit concerned." Punjob commented, getting more than a few headshakes in disgust at his bad jokes. "But then again, at least I didn't make a _**donkey**_ of myself on live television." He said as he motioned to the screen hanging in one of the corner of the board room, showing that ZNN was STILL going on about that morning's press conference.

Turning her head to the left and towards the direction of the Saddle Arabian transplant, the semi-aquatic rodent raised an eyebrow in curiosity, her lips pursing in disapproval. "Was that dissing or cussing?" Councilwoman Beaver asked of Councilman Punjob.

The desert mammal shook his head and smiled at the woman. "Neither. It was merely... an observation. Besides," he began as he reclined back into his chair once more. "I'm trying to cut down on the cursing a little bit, so I'm using alternative ways to speak that you rodents came up with." Removing the cigar from his lips, Kahmal nodded his head in at the direction of the semi-aquatic rodent. "But what have you to complain of? At least you weren't pulled from an **actual job**! I have seven digits I have to deal with daily at the hotel! And that's _**cash**_!" Ignoring the huff of the female beaver, the camel looked at the leonine mayor. "So can we please get on with this? I have to get back to the Golden Palm even though I would like to do some _**lion**_ around. Eh, eh?" Punjob queried as he winked at the mayor while others gathered at the table groaned at the humped herbivore's atrocious puns.

Bringing a massive paw up to rub his face, the mane-adorned feline groaned in disgust as Kahmal continued to live up to the family motto of felonious punnery. "I do apologize for any wait, ladies and gentlemen. The delay wasn't due to me wanting to slight any of you by wasting your time. Heaven's no," he said in all seriousness. "I found myself assaulted in Chief Bogo's office by the ZPD's... er... latest recruit..."

The equine immediately butted in. "I saw what you did at the end of the conference, Lionheart. If she did, you had it coming!" Monica commented with her eyes narrowed, gazing at him in an accusatory fashion. "Despite the fact she turned out to be a fox, you really should have checked your privilege at the podium, Mayor! Doing something like that?" She shook her head. "I can keep certain... _parts_ of the internet from have a fit... save for those blasted gamer nerds who will call us hypocrites again, but you should count yourself lucky that she is _just_ a fox."

Mrs. Beaver nodded her head in agreement with the woman sitting next to her. "Indeed! I mean, sure she's a fox of all things, terrible nocturnal predators that they are... but you simply **do not** mammal-handle a _woman_ so roughly, Lionheart!" The petite lady in pink attire said sternly, shaking a finger at him with her white-gloved hand as if she were chiding a cub. "And worse, you didn't even try to salvage anything! You just buttoned your lip and ran for it!"

Cringing a bit as it felt like he was being ostracized by his own mother, Leodore looked over to his fellow Liberal and questioned, "Was... was it really that bad?" He thought he kept himself collected and emotionless as he nipped things in the bud before they could get worse.

"Absolutely atrocious!" Ms. Harshwhinny butted in again, answering for the smaller female mammal. "As I said, what you did was complete and utter misogynistic!"

The elephant across the table from her snorted, his trunk extending out for a moment to do so. "Darn it, Monica! Enough with the accusations of sexism already! He just firmly dealt with an outsider who was lambasting our fair city in a timely and efficient manner! Sometimes doing the right thing isn't the easy let alone pretty thing to do! Sometimes you need to get your paws dirty, and in the case of Leodore today, literally!"

Crossing her arms over her chest, the female mustang glared at Jumbo over the rim of her glasses. "I told you this before, Mr. Loans! Stop using my first name! That is a completely and utterly sexist, specist and misogynist thing to do: acting so familiar and chummy with me! Me, a mammal of the opposite gender and a different phylum of species!"

"Oh come off that soapbox already! We've known each other for twenty years!" The elephant snapped irritably.

Woody snorted at that. "You really shouldn't be surprised, you old elephant. You heard what happened to Josh Wheaties, right? You can be a good ally or know them your whole lives but as soon as you say or do something that they find even remotely offensive, they'll turn on you like a pack of wild dingoes or hyenas." The rotund rodent shuddered at the mental image such a statement gave him.

Realizing why the tiny mammal was trembling for his own two-cents, O'Hoggish snorted. "Of course you would immediately liken Ms. Harshwhinny's crowd to some Chompers when you want to insult someone." He then brought his hands up, speaking in almost a mocking tone. "I mean, oh look! The little woodchuck is afraid of a predator so that means they're the worst things on earth! Big fudge pawpsicle surprise right there!" He bit out sarcastically.

His eyes narrowing, the groundhog glared at the **ACTUAL** hog. "Hey! I'll have you know that you idiots forcing my family to accept predators into the Junior Ranger Scouts has done nothing but ruin the morale and sanctity of the brother and sisterhood we develop amongst these kits and cubs! None of the good herbivores can focus on earning badges or learning valuable life skills when they have some tiger or even a bear among them!" He crossed his arms over his chest. "In my day, we knew exactly what to do with preds! Muzzle and beat 'em into submission!" He then proceeded to punch his tiny right fist into his open left palm for emphasis. "Those fiendish meat-eating pelts learned their lesson darn quick!"

The porcine Conservative snorted–something his species was _particularly_ good at. "And _that_ sort of thinking, my dear Mr. Chipper, is also **why** your youth groups are also seeing their lowest enrollment numbers on record. You don't give them a chance to make you money." He grinned wide. "I mean, sure, dealing with predators is dangerous and risky but their green is just as good as anyone else when you make investments!"

"Now, now..." Kahmal interrupted before an argument could break out. "I know things are tense and we're all _**chomping**_ at the bit here, but we do have to bury old grudges." He gave a smirk to side of the table to his right where all Liberals were sitting. "I do believe, though, that it _was_ your party that set up the laws that made them into second-class citizens in the first place."

The female mustang scoffed at the humped herbivore's historical fact the party did their best to keep dead and buried. "At least we don't hate women, old people, and orphans!" She snapped, her gaze going straight to the largest mammal in the room to imply she was directly accusing him of such atrocities in particular. It was one of her favored tactics: ignore answering any damning inquiries and immediately deflect the attention to another pressing issue.

The head of the Conservative party threw his massive mitts up into the air in frustration. "Oh for the love of Gouda and all the good herbivores on this great green earth, Monica! I **am** an old person!" Mr. Jumbo Loans cried out in absolute aggravation.

Smirking a little at the sheer audacity of the woman, the arctic hare on the end of the table leaned into his left towards Leodore and whispered, "Really? Mr. Loans sure had me fooled."

Despite himself, a small chuckle rumbled in the lion's throat. Oh, he could always be thankful for the constant backstabbing of various party members on both sides of the divide. If they could stay focused on each other he might be able to get through this unscathed.

The female equine merely neighed in disgust. "Oh and there you go, bringing religion into this!" She huffed angrily. "God... or as the rodent population likes to say, 'Gouda' is just a construct of Western mammal society who are trying to use a celestial boogeyman to get all other mammals to fall in line with their idea of systemic straight herbivore male privilege!"

Realizing this was going to devolve into yet another one of those debates, the lovely motherly figure of the City Council stood on her chair. Her little paws raised high, Mrs. Beaver clapped her hands together to get the attention of all those gathered. "Ladies, gentlemammals, and those of undisclosed genders or species identity, please! Quiet down now! Can we at least, for today, focus ourselves on the task at paw? We can save our sniping for the campaign trail but right now we have a much bigger problem to deal with!"

"I agree! Well said, Councilwoman Harriet Beaver!" Hornaday spoke praised, having been waiting for the woman to rein the others in for him. The woman just had an effect on animals that even he, despite being the President of the City Council, did not. He gazed about the table, making sure everyone was settled and willing to work together before he began speaking to the group as a whole. "I do thank you all for making it to this important meeting. Due to the gross **incompetence** of Mayor Lionheart here, a serious threat has been levied against us."

The leonine bureaucrat blinked his eyes in shock at the head councilman's statement. "A... a threat? Really? Her, a threat? You mean that one little fox?" The large wild feline asked as he brought his impressive paws up and held them apart only a little bit to show an exaggerated amount of minimal height for emphasis.

"Indeed... a fox that could ruin everything we've worked to maintain!" The greater kudu replied in all seriousness. The African antelope pushed his chair back and stood tall, looming over the lion to his right, his right hooved hand extended and pointing his index finger at the predator in a dominant fashion. "Leodore, do you remember _WHY_ we let you run office?"

His vision going cross-eyed as his brown orbs came to focused on the hooved digit pointing directly his nose, the lion replied, "Because I've got charisma, ideas, and the will and desire to lead Zootopia into greater prosperity?"

" **WRONG**!" Hornaday practically barked out. "It's because you're a predator who knows its place in the food-chain!" He said with a commanding tone. "Predators overall don't know any better! They're children that need proper guidance! Stupid children that will cut themselves **and** _ **us**_ with all the sharp and pointy bits of their biology that evolution mistakenly gave them and cursed us to having to deal with! But you, Lionheart? Oh no, you _know_ better! I say jump, you ask how high! I say run, you ask how far! I say be a good puppet and you sing, 'I've Got No Strings' from that rodent entrepreneur's animated version of Pinocchio!"

Mayor Lionheart twitched as the others–including the Conservatives–around the table nodded their heads in agreement, driving home that he was nothing but a pretty face for them to quell any predator outrage while they could run things business as usual. Oh how he _hated_ to be reminded of that fact, but it was all too true. _Then again, hardly any mammal can run for office in this day and age without their special interest masters controlling them_ , the lion politician mentally reminded himself in an effort to soothe his bruised ego.

Well... save for a few politicians but they were generally old animals whom were tired of the establishment and wanted to buck the system, such as that Ron Pawl fellow... whom notably failed to become President of the Zoonited States and was easily dismissed as being Koo-Koo for Cocoa Puffs.

Reaching forward for his cigar again, the camel tapped it on the rim of the ash tray before him before bringing it back close to him. "So then, how do you suggest we go about _**vixen**_ this issue, President Hornaday?" Punjob asked in all seriousness, despite still working another pun of his into the inquiry. "I don't know about any of you, but I think trying to push thing back to the way things were will cause a riot and I'm not really up for dealing with that." He knew that the more 'progressive' members of the council would be willing to try it, but he sure as hell wasn't.

After all, this time there would be no way to keep the predators from rioting in the streets if they tried to reinstate the Tame Collar Initiative. The Chompers had learned about and lived a new level of freedom and they would be willing to fight literal fang and claw to keep it.

"I'm pretty certain that the rest of the predators appreciate your concern, Councilman Punjob, but you don't need to worry. There's no way the rest of the Council would even consider such regressive tactics," The Mayor replied...

...Only to be immediately silenced by a glare from the prey mammal with the set of killer screw horns that adorned his head.

With the pred cowed in his seat, the antelope turned about and stared out at the gathering of his fellow herbivores. "I was getting to that, Lord Punjob," the elder cervidae answered in a firm if not outright aggressive tone. The horned prey mammal waited for the camel to begin smoking–as such would keep his mouth shut–before he addressed the council once again. "I've been down this road before... I've seen it firsthoof what they're capable of, those... those **foxes**..." he spat out the breed's name as if it were the vilest of curses. "They so conniving and shifty! They've got an unnatural cunning to them! Even if they're not smart there's a wisdom about those creatures that lets them make a dollar out of ninety-nine cents! They know how to find business opportunities and don't give us our due! We're just fortunate enough that we've been able to keep **them** down thanks to the common mistrust ALL mammals correctly have of that filthy, thieving species."

The head chairman then turned about on Leodore once more. "And look at what you did, **idiot**! You have given one of them the undisputed reins of authority! You and other predators know to toe the line in Zootopia but this woman? This _outsider_!? She's lived all the lies and crazy ideas of the rest of the world! Ideas that put predators on equal footing with their prey superiors! Ideas that support the falsehoods they are better suited than _**US**_ at _any_ aspect of life!" He roared in the lion's face. "AND YOU PUT ALL THAT ON CAMERA! YOU PUT THOSE SPECIST FACTS OUT THERE FOR EVERY ANIMAL TO SEE!"

"No kidding!" Jumbo said in agreement as his trunk motioned to the eighty-six inch television set hanging on the wall; the screen showing Peter Moosebridge and Fabienne Growley are still going at a heated debate with one another. "ZNN has been talking about this darned press conference of yours non-stop since you ended it abruptly, Lionheart! You got everyone talking and speculating! And worse! You even got them digging up so-called, 'positive' information about the woman because you foolishly built her up so high!" He said, lambasting the fifty-second mayor of Zootopia. "It sends the **wrong** message for mammals to hear she's managed to take down bigger and meaner _pelts_ that are already superior to her flawed fox species but it's a shame if not an outright **sin** to hear how this woman has bested PREY! I mean, these are criminal herbivores to be sure but it spins the false narrative of outright predator superiority!"

"Oh, you're just upset that one of her latest capers had her take down a criminal elephant, this Decibel-something-or-other," Woody said in all seriousness... although a part of him was pleased to see a little guy manage to overcome something huge, even if it was a... he paused to shudder in disgust. A filthy fox.

Before the mayor could speak, the television had its, 'special news bulletin' music jingle play, the louder tone catching the attention of those gathered. "Hey, someone turn that up," Leodore called out as he looked at the table for the remote control. The large feline saw it to his right and went to grab it, only to have Mr. Velveteen quickly take hold of it.

"I got it," the lagomorph replied as he held the remote device up in his left paw and pressed his right index finger down on the up button on the volume control, the voices on the television now coming in clear over the television's speaker system.

Looking at the camera so that he appeared to be facing the audience, it was a bewildered looking experienced Peter Moosebridge that spoke, even as his fellow feline news-caster looked absolutely smug. "We now take you live to our news correspondent Boi Chá with the newest recruit of the Zootopia Police Department who has just apprehended wanted criminal Rock S. Teddy for what witnesses say was a smash and grab."

" **WHAT**!?" Was the chorus of the mammals gathered as all their seats–minus Hornaday's–swiveled in place to look towards the large TV set. The image on the screen changed to that of a male jaguar in a fine suit standing beside the slightly shorter vixen, the woman clad in the recognizable uniform of the ZPD.

His right paw over his ear, the ring-patterned feline brought the microphone with a prominent ZNN logo on its handle up to just below his face with his other. "This is Boi Chá, live from Blue Grass Boulevard in Southern Savanna Central!" He said, speaking directly into his microphone. "I am here at the scene of arrest with the ZPD's latest recruit, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox!" The camera zoomed in, getting a better image of both mammals on the screen. "Officer Fox, can you tell us how you managed to keep up with such a large and powerful prey mammal in a foot chase of all things?: As he finished speaking, the predatory mammal tilted the microphone he held in his grasp towards the vulpine woman so it was between them.

Looking into the camera, the vixen replied, "Well that's rather simple, Mr. Chá: hard work and a lot of cardio. I used to do parkour for a living as part of my job _**BEFORE**_ it was even called that by the hipsters and adrenaline-junkies!" She said in all seriousness. "Back when it had been part of Interpol's military-grade training."

"Really?" The jaguar said in surprise. "So you're saying you invented the trend as it's commonly known today?"

Shaking her head, the Hispanic policewoman replied, "No. If anything, the crooks and thieves of France did. I had to pick up on it to keep up with them in high-speed pursuits. So managing to gain on a big, muscle-bound rhino who was only weighed down by his own massive body was a cakewalk."

"Someone..." a male voice spoke up, causing the camera to zoom back a bit pan down to the ground where the source of the voice originated, revealing it to be male overweight cheetah in ZPD uniform was lying flat on the ground. "Someone mention cake?"

The woman chuckled as she knelt down beside her fellow policeman. "It's okay, Officer Clawhauser. We'll get you some cake after."

"Oh... oh thank you!" the tuckered out feline managed to gasp in relief. "We never got to even dig into lunch! I'm absolutely starving!"

The expression on the jaguar's face easily conveyed his confusion on how a mammal that fat could be hungry. Still, he was professional enough to not bring it up–particularly since the man was a fellow feline. "Yes... well then," he stumbled a bit, trying to get the topic off a pudgy police officer needing his nom-nom's. "How were you able to take down such a large rhino? I highly doubt that you could have put him in a choke hold."

"Dat fox has a zappa!" Said rhinoceros yelled, the camera panning over past the pair to reveal the large mammal as he was being pushed into a heavily armored transport van by a pair of uniformed officers; a fellow member of his species and a polar bear. "IT REALLY HURT!" He whined as the door was slammed and he was driven off.

The camera's view zoomed back to the pair in time to catch the vulpine nodding her head at the horned herbivore's words. "It's true," the red fox said as she brought her right hand to her side and withdrew her firearm. "This is a shock pistol or as I like to call it, 'The Equalizer'. It's a weapon of non-lethal force designed with the sole purpose of discharging ions for a stunning effect. It is Interpol-issued and I am both licensed and trained in proper handling. Needless to say it's a very potent self-defense tool, able to take down a criminal as large and durable as... well... for obvious example, a rhino."

Staring down at the red weapon in the woman's paw for a moment, Boi blinked his eyes in surprise. "Aren't you worried about accidentally killing any animal smaller than you are with that thing?" He questioned in legitimate concern. He knew of a weasel that barely survived getting electrocuted after hooking up illegal cable television so he could pirate Disney movies. That guy's fur was STILL singed and growing back in odd patterns.

"Of course not," Carmelita replied firmly. "It has a power gauge setting that I can use to make certain its charge is set to handle any animal no matter their size. I could even use this to snipe rodents from ten paces if I put it to the lowest setting without doing more than momentarily stunning them."

The jaguar nodded his head in understanding, his gaze drawn to the woman's weapon. "Amazing, simply amazing! That is an incredible piece of equipment! I'm surprised the ZPD hasn't looked into such a weapon to arm their officers with. The closest they have are those Tasers! And those things are purposely charged to a single animal body-type!"

A thoughtful expression came over the vixen's case for a moment. "To be fair, these weapons could seriously hurt people. Too strong of a charge and you could accidentally kill a little lamb, let alone turn its snow white fleece as black as coal," the Latina vulpine said in all seriousness. "That's why a lot of training is needed before someone can be issued one of these for use in the field. You need to be able to know how to accurately recalibrate this thing on the fly, especially when multiple targets are concerned."

"I see, I see..." the predatory feline said in reply to his fellow Latin mammal. "So getting certified for that thing must take a lot of physical testing... and..." he trailed off as he brought his right hand up to his ear. "Wait a moment. I'm getting some information here." His eyes widened with genuine surprise. "Wow! Officer Fox, do you realize you just ended a two month-long crime wave that has had the entirety of the Zootopia Police Department stumped? And within three hours of being authorized no less!"

Needless to say, the female red fox was caught off-guard by the newscaster's proclamation, shock dawning on her features. All the woman could say in reply was, "Que!?"

"Sí,sí!" Boi cried out excitedly. "Mr. Teddy has had a warrant out for him for an ongoing five months total and that these smash and grabs of his have been nearly a daily thing all over the Savanna Central and Downtown Districts the past two months in particular! Over twelve grand in stolen property and thirty-four thousand in assorted damages! You've taken down a career criminal by yourself that has left the entirety of the ZPD in the dust!"

Realizing where this was going with the man trying to prop her up, the vixen quickly added, "I didn't do it alone. I had help!" She motioned to the ground. She had to make sure the department got some of the credit, otherwise she could be off to a rough start with the other officers once she got a chance to interact with them.

Again, the camera panned down, following the motion of the vulpine woman's hand. "...Hi..." the rotund cheetah replied from his place on the sidewalk. At least his heavy breathing had stopped and he was able to finally sit up.

Gazing down again, Boi pursed his lips as he cringed. "Oh dear... ZPD's best doesn't seem all that great. No offense my fellow feline," he quickly added in apology.

Raising his right paw, the cheetah waved off the newscaster. "None taken," he told the jaguar. "I'm mostly a desk jockey anyway. I was just chosen to be the one to show Officer Fox around the city... admittedly though it seems she got through a lot more of it on foot faster than we could in the car."

"Oh, that's okay..." Carmelita said as she brought a hand down, patting the rotund officer's head. She looked towards the camera and firmly stated, "Officer Benjamin Clawhauser is one of the best law-keepers I've met. And I mean that on a global level," she reaffirmed. "He might not be what you want for a beat cop but I've yet to meet anyone in the ZPD with the zeal and attitude it takes to be an honest cop outside of your city's fine Chief Bogo." Granted, she hadn't had a chance to really meet anyone else yet but she hoped to soon.

She then brought her shock pistol up into the camera's shot. "So don't worry your heads, Zootopia! You've got the best management a police station could ever want! And I'll be out there to help keep your streets sa—"

The feed was cut off as a crystalline ashtray smashed into the front of the television; the coloration going extremely pixelated before simply going black. The knick-knack broke up into a quintet of chunks as it created a huge indentation that cracked open the twin glass panels and fluorescent lights of the front of the plasma screen on impact. In moments, that sizeable break expanded out across the surface of the screen in a pattern of cracks akin to that of a spider-web.

"Hornaday!" Jumbo shouted as he swiveled his seat back around to look at the heaving form of the greater kudu. "What in the ever-loving hache-eee-double-hockey sticks are you thinking!?" The elephant wasn't upset about the now broken television so much as how that thing could have hit _**him**_ in the back of the head!

His chest heaving from how heavily he was breathing in barely restrained rage, the greater kudu eventually let off an audibly growl turning as he turned to his right, grabbing Mayor Lionheart by the lapels of his jacket and pulling him close. "You idiot! Do you see what you've done!? This is no longer an issue of a conniving fox in power. This is something my _grandparents_ warned me about: predator superiority and the end of herbivore rule!" He then firmly pushed Leodore back into his seat with enough force that he caused the feline's chair to roll back on its wheels a few feet. "And you, Mr. Mayor, are going to fix this!"

As soon as his chair came to a stop, the leonine politician blinked his eyes as he looked up at his fellow bureaucrat. "Huh-how?" He managed to gasp out as he used his feet to try and roll his chair back to the head of the table in an effort to regain some semblance of respect.

When the predator he had gotten propped up enough to get elected as mayor was close enough to him, the African antelope firmly told him, "You are going to get her to leave Zootopia. I don't care how you do it, you just _do it_! Because if you don't, we're going to be heading South so fast we'll be in Tiajuanna before we know it!"

Hearing the man to her right say that, the female equine scoffed in outrage. "That's Speci—"

" **Quiet**!" The head of Zootopia's Liberal Party and President of the Zootopia City Council roared in the face of his subordinate, making the female mustang yelp out in shock that a man would actually have the balls speak up to her. "I don't have time to deal with your petty agendas and political correctness, Ms. Harshwhinny! You can whine at me all you want later but right now I need you to shut your trap!" Hornaday yelled at Monica. When she was cowed, the horned herbivore turned his attention back to the lion. "So let's get one thing absolutely clear, Mayor Lionheart... your job is to get that..." he grit his teeth. "That _**fox**_ out of our city, using any means necessary! If anything goes wrong, I promise you we'll see to it your head **rolls**!"

The others looked slightly confused at his outburst, but the mammal ignored their stared. Hornaday knew _exactly_ what was going to happen. "If we don't do something now, soon the predators will be pushing for even more equality! Some may actually try to push for supremacy!" He shouted in bewilderment. "But the real and immediate problem will be that the predators wouldn't be cowed if they side with this... _outsider_. A symbol of everything that's wrong with the rest of the world!" He reached out with his hooved hands pulled the mayor close by his tie. Butting his nose against the other man's, he narrowed his eyes and glared into the predator's fearful gaze. "We may have had to start accepting those damned chompers into more aspects of our once great society to keep the corrupt American government off our backs but because of you letting that idiot Chief Bogo open up to hiring even more pelts, the police force has a disproportionate number of predators in the ranks. We wouldn't be able to enforce law and order if they decided to side with the predators over us!"

The mayor nodded his head in understanding. He didn't need to be told what to do.

Letting go of the feline's red necktie, Hornaday stepped back and brushed his suit off. "Well then, so long as we have an agreement..." he said in a surprisingly nonchalant manner, almost a complete one-eighty from the attitude he'd been displaying. "I suggest you go and... take care of her as soon as possible."

Leaning forward in his seat, the elephant brought his trunk up, using his nose to adjust the glasses on his face as he stared at the greater kudu. "You aren't talking about _illegal_ means or anything, are you Head Councilman?" Jumbo asked, knowing full well that they couldn't cover up something like that if he did. As tempting as the thought was to just go and take care of the fox like they did back in the old days, she was an Interpol agent! They'd have the International Police all over their city if she disappeared or turned up dead somewhere!

The horned herbivore scoffed. "Of course not! We just need to make her feel completely unwanted and that it would be best to leave on her own." He smirked. "I'm sure even if Mayor Lionheart has trouble, we can all find ways to feel as unwelcome as possible in this city. That a fox cannot rise up to be a community leader."

"Ah yes... such as forcing her jobs on her no one in their right minds would want comes to mind," Jumbo said as he nodded in understanding. Now **that** he could at least get behind.

"In fact..." Hornaday began, the wheels in his head turning as his gaze returned to the feline mayor. "I think it would be in your best interest to PUSH a certain fact home with the city... you go to that bull-headed idiot Bogo and you two see to it that this Carmelita can be nothing more than what her breed allows for: a sultry vixen."

Blinking his eyes once, twice, the leonine politician queried, "What do you mean?"

The smile that split across Council Chairman William Hornaday's muzzle was absolutely sinister.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Well holy shnikes, THIS chapter was a Herculean effort and I couldn't have done it without my best bud and Beta Reader, Nanya. I would only get a few hours a day to work on this with everything going on in my life, but he kept me on track and so I was able to get it ready for the day I promised and put all I could into it. In doing so, I was able to make this the longest chapter to date! So much comedy, drama, soapboxing, world-building, etcetera, etcetera... I do hope this was worth the wait.

And finally... finally! We meet most of the villains of the piece! They may not be Zistopia's Cud Club but I believe this will be a group of mammals the readers will love to hate. And the best part? They've all existed in one form or another, whether in pre-production art or deleted scenes... and in one case in particular, actually existed in the film Zootopia. Because even if I have to come up with the personalities and backstories characters, I do prefer to use a base that was grounded in the original intent of the film to give this story a feeling of legitimacy. 

In fact, the only OC so far has been 'King" Louis Stripeamol who appeared this chapter, with a job and a food truck being something of a little nod to The Weaver's Pack Street Tumblr comics and stories. Because Rastafarian themes were one thing I noticed missing from the actual film and darn it, predators need to eat too!

Also a big, BIG hand to Kacey Antelope for aiding me in fleshing out the concept of a prey mammal in the predator food industry! I already had the concept in mind but this lovely lady helped me with the little nuances and just get that flavor–no pun intended–for what it might truly be like to run a food truck even if you're not what's expected for a chef.

And speaking of King Louis' service and customers... yes, one might recognize a little nod to Sheena Hopps and Glen Muttlock from Nicolaswilde's Zistopia Tumblr. Will I do more with them? Only time will tell...

And now the other news... sorry to say but it's going to be another two weeks to the next update. Life keeps me super busy but at least it will be for a fun reason for a little bit. My birthday is this following week. So please be patient with me. I will do my best to deliver something awesome when I return.

And finally, try looking up ZNN's New England Meet-Up Party. If all goes well, I have every intention of being there. I look forward to meeting the likes of Redman404, author of the rather delightful, "Hopps and Robbers" fanfiction... a story which gave me the drive to write this one.

Until next time! Remember to, 'Try Everything'.


	9. Blue Light Special

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 9: Blue Light Special

The Good Migrations Grocery Store was a place of business settled within Zootopia's Downtown District that primarily revolved around the sale of consumable goods–whether they were sold as single servings or in bulk capacity–as to better serve the ever-hungry mammal populace. Offering various foods that were packaged in cans, bottles, plastic wrap, and boxes, along with also having fresh produce, a thriving deli, and a bakery for fresh goods, the store catered to the many tastes of the various animals of the city. Of course, food wasn't the only thing that Good Migrations offered to run a better household. The store also stocked up on non-perishable goods and even had an on-site pharmacy! Indeed, the prey mammals that migrated to the store and back for their daily or weekly upkeep found it to be a good thing.

And being a chain store whose parent company existed outside of Zootopia, their store policies were much more lax when it came to their animal customers of a more predatory nature... hence why a pair of vulpine men were currently on the hunt... for a good bargain! They were being paid to take care of a certain Hispanic policewoman's grocery shopping for her while she went about her first day on the force. A petite sandy-furred fennec sat in the child's seat of a shopping cart, the mammal settled at a good height to look at the higher shelves while a taller, suave and somewhat smarmy crimson-pelted red fox was on the ground, pushing the cart along the aisle.

"What do you see up there, Finnick?" The red fox asked as he continued to press himself up against the large metal construction so he pushed the large cart; his arms trembling as he continued to keep the carriage moving. While he **was** rather pleased that the grocery store thought to include a lower set of handle bars for the shorter animals like him... the canid was overall annoyed he was the one who had to propel a mass of steel on wheels sized for the _much_ larger mammals that just got heavier with each item added.

Reaching out and running his index finger along the shelf, the tiny vulpine withdrew his hand and stared at his fingertip. "Dust," the orange-eyed vulpine replied as he began to rub his finger and thumb together. "Lots and lots of dust..." he shook his head in absolute disgust, making his oversized ears wobble. "Seriously, do the peons they got working here ever clean these shelves?"

Hearing the bitching of his compatriot, Nicholas sighed. It made sense, really. He doubted any of the larger prey population would accept the cashier or janitorial positions, leaving such to the smaller mammals like his species to do the cleaning... and like hell they'd risk falling from that height! "Can't be helped buddy," he told the tiny tod as he pulled a list of of his pocket and took a gander. "Do you see the… er... how the hell do you pronounce this?" he grumbled, holding up the list to his somewhat-friend.

Bending down slightly, he grasped the very tip of the paper offered before pulling it up. Sitting back down in the child's seat of the carriage, Finnick looked at the item, then at the dusty items all around him–seriously, did none of the teenagers working here no how to keep a clean shelf!? One elephant with an allergy and this place would be a blood-bath!

He then blinked his eyes realization of what he was looking at in the writing actually hit home. "Ah! It says, 'alfalfa' Wilde. Specifically, Officer Fox wants some alfalfa sprouts."

That comment made the crimson-pelted canid blink his viridian eyes in surprise. "Alfalfa? Really?" He chirruped. "I mean, what the heck would she want that stuff for? It's..." he paused, not even sure how to describe it. He grew up in a somewhat vegetarian household and that NEVER came up! "Is that _even_ a canned vegetable!?"

"Actually, it's an herb," the small desert fox replied. "But she wants the sprouts... which means she wants something with a bit of body for eating rather than flavoring. We'll pick 'em up later in produce but for now, mush! Mush boy! Down the lane so we can search the rest of this aisle for anything else on this list..." which the short-statured vulpine decided he was keeping. He was the one at the eye-level for the shelves, so it was better with him anyway.

Sighing, Nick nodded and gave the cart a firm push once more to get it rolling, occasionally turning his head left and right to check out either side, on the lookout for anything that tickled his memory as having been on Carmelita's list. Really thought? He was just doing anything he could to prolong their visit the dreaded aisle they were saving for the end...

The feminine hygiene product aisle!

But until then, they would get the canned and bagged goods first, followed by produce, deli, and frozen, before the male vulpines would have to visit...

Shuddering, the red fox paused in pushing the cart to take hold of his wits. Shaking his head, he focus on shopping, reaching out and grabbing a few cans of soup off one of the lower shelves. Officer Fox hadn't asked for name-brand, but he didn't want to upset the lovely Latina vixen by getting the el-cheapo off-name brands.

Gazing down to see why Wilde had come to a stop, the fennec raised an eyebrow in surprise as he saw what his partner was holding in his grimy paws. "Name brand?" Fennick asked in annoyance. "Really? You want to spend all that money on name brands?"

Looking up at his partner, the canid con-mammal saw the rather cross expression on his face and merely shrugged his shoulders. "She didn't say one way or the other."

"What about the bottom line?" The fennec was quick to point out.

Again, Nick merely shrugged. "We're not paying," he said as he stood on his tip-toes and held up one of the cans for the smaller vulpine to take from him and put in the basket proper.

Looking down at the offered can of cream of mushroom soup, Finnick snorted in disgust at the thought someone could afford be so wasteful with their money. "I tell you Wilde, I'm jealous of her. All the cash to get top label products without a second thought..." he sighed and shook his head while dropping the can into the basket of the cart. "We could easily slash a third off the final cost at the counter if we were to just pick up the store's brands at the very least."

"I repeat: not our place big guy," Nick replied as he handed up another can of Lambbell's soup. "Okay we got tomato soup," he handed the vulpine the next can. "We got broccoli and cheddar soup," again, another aluminum container went up. "We got creamed corn..."

Puckering his lips, the smaller vulpine made a face of disgust. "Creamed corn? Blech!" He shook his head. "Even if it's from a name brand, that stuff is still disgusting!"

"I thought that was just with hominy," Nick pondered curiously at the desert fox's reaction.

"That too," Fennick waved off to let him know he wasn't a fan of the white balls of... whatever the hell they were. "There is a whole category about yucky vegetables. That's why they're either on the highest shelf or the bottom while the stuff that will sell is in the middle for easy access. Again, Wilde... it's all about the bottom line!"

The crimson-pelted vulpine nodded his head in agreement before he began to push the cart once more, taking firm hold so they could make a turn into the next aisle. "I can't believe she wants all this... variety." So many different cans of soup; what was wrong with purchasing the bulk packages? It was the same amount of brand name food for less!

"Some mammals aren't satisfied with the simple things," Fennick said sagely, as he looked at the next item on the shelves before him in stunned silence. The large-eared vulpine then turned his head back and forth from the list and the actual items on the shelves a number of times, only to sigh in defeat as the woman indeed wanted one of these. "Spaghetti sauce? In a _**jar**_!?" He shook his head sadly. Whatever happened to homemade; a mix of tomato sauce and paste...

"Oh, just relax," Nick told his partner. "We're not the one's eating it... and we're still getting paid thirty bucks an hour to pick it up so man up, my little buddy. Man up!"

The tiny vulpine twitched. "You are so lucky you're down there, Wilde... I would kick you in the shins for that, 'little' crack... but..." a devious grin split across Fennick muzzle. "I'm up here, with the glass jars... and you're down there with no cover..." he said meaningfully.

"Glass jars that we'll have to pay for if they're busted," Nick replied with a smile, hoping to get his semi-friend to calm down by hitting him where it mattered: his wallet.

And just like that, the desert fox removed his raised hand from the shelf, showing that the other male vulpine's words had a profound effect on him. Still, he wasn't about to let Wilde off the hook just yet! "…You do realize I'm coming down from here at some point. Maybe at the end of the aisle, maybe sooner, or maybe even later but the point is, I shall have my revenge." Either way, he crumpled the list into a ball and threw it down at the taller vulpine to drive the point home.

Nodding his head as the paper ball bounced off the top of it, Nick just smiled lightly in response. He could, of course, make a comment about putting his friend inside the child seat on the cart... but that might be pushing things a bit too far... and would definitely end with him getting a concussion and needing help to get shards of glass out of his scalp. Such had happened once before when the tiny guy slammed his foot on the brakes in the middle of traffic to send him flying into the windshield. Not only did the red fox have to pay that mob doctor in Tundratown under the table for those stitches but then his little pal had the _**gall**_ to charge him so he could replace said windshield his forehead put a series of cracks in.

So deciding that retreat from this topic was the better course of valor, the vulpine continued to push the cart and change the subject. With any luck, the petite ball of vulpine rage would forget soon enough. "Hey, while we're here..." he paused in his pushing as something caught his eye. Nick then bent down and picked up the paper ball. He began uncurling it so he could get back to reading the list, calling out the first thing he saw. "Do you see any Tuna Helper?" As he continued to look at the paper, the crimson-pelted canid couldn't help but chuckle. _I can't believe she even wrote down, 'makes a great meal'_ , he thought with a bit of amusement.

Standing up in the children's seat, the tiny fennec turned about on the small plastic seating pad, gazing all about the higher shelves for it. His head turned to his right, his bright orange eyes widened as he did indeed see the requested item. "Ah! Further on ahead, Wilde! And keep to the right!" he quickly proclaimed as he sat himself down.

Nodding his head in understanding, Nick pressed his hands against the lower handlebar and began pushing, letting out a grunt as he did so. The cans were already adding more weight that fought against what force his skinny little arms could produce. "Oh sweet Cheeses... Zerdan, we need to get you a diet!" He proclaimed, putting the blame of the weight on his partner and not on Carmelita's groceries.

...What? He was _technically_ saying the fennec was larger and thereby **complimenting** him!

As he became rather intimate with his friend's foot as it connected with his jaw, the canid con-mammal felt he should have gotten points for not making the easy jokes about his friend being in the kid seat.

Watching his taller partner stumble a bit in a dizzy state for a moment, the petite fox crossed his arms over his chest in a menacing manner–an impressive feat for someone barely two feet in height. "Now, if you're done being an idiot, can you quit acting like you've never been in a grocery store before," Fennick growled. "And look at the aisle signs above your head."

Rubbing his jaw to soothe the pain from the fennec's snap-kick, Nick looked up...

And up...

And up some more...

"...Ye~eeeeeeah..." the male red fox in Hawaiian shirt drawled out as he could already feel his neck creak from bending it back so much. "That's not gonna happen any time soon. They're up there too darn high!"

"...I can read them," Fennick waved off his partner's complaint. A devious little smirk blossomed on the petite vulpine's muzzle as he took a shot at his partner's annoyance with getting older. "I guess your eyesight just must be going finally, old man."

Twitching, the canid con-mammal placed his hands on his hips and glared up at the tiny fox in the shopping cart. "Really? Want me to toss you up there for a closer look?"

The desert fox barked out a laugh at Wilde's attempt to appear threatening. "Oh please! You can barely move a shopping cart. I doubt you have the upper arm strength to actually toss me more than a foot!"

"If I only throw you a foot, that's just me living up to the old sagely advice of only trusting someone as far as you can throw 'em," Nick was quick to reply. "And I do have upper body strength. I'm _quite_ capable for a red fox!" The pawpsicle hustler proclaimed as he stepped back and struck a pose, flexing his arms and making his biceps... well... twitch. "Look at this! I'm the very example of pure, manly-mammal vulpine!"

Leaning over and looking down at his illegitimate business partner, Finnick raised his right eyebrow in curiosity. "...You know, if Vanilla or Cherry were around, they'd have _**so**_ much to say..." he murmured. Between Psychotherapy and Modern Literature majors, they were both educated women who found Wilde to be a rather _interesting_ fellow. The kind of mammal they used to write thesis papers about for their college courses.

"And Angel?" Nick queried as he continued to strike poses to bolster his ego.

Shrugging his shoulders, the petite predator simply replied, "She'd merely tell you to stop acting like an idiot and get to work... probably after she popped you in the jaw!" After all, having majored in Engineering, the middle child of the Arctic vixen triplets was more into the, 'Insert Fist A into Mouth B' line of approach. "Be that as it may though," he began as he kicked his legs out, pushing them through the two slots of the child's sear as if he were a little kid. "We need to get a move on! I know we're getting paid by the hour but even Officer Fox said that she's a stickler about us just wasting time! If we're not prompt, we can't bum a free lunch off of her! And after picking up all this food for Honey and her that would _**really**_ suck!"

"Yeah, yeah," Nick smirked–trying to ignore the flash of pain of something that he might have pulled.

Raising an eyebrow at the other vulpine's noticeable twitch, the tinier of the two vulpine's raised an eyebrow in concern. "Seriously, how do you handle this on your own for yourself?" Finnick asked curiously. They'd only gotten to Aisle Four and his fellow canid predator already looked ready to pass out.

Tilting his head side to side to work out the creak in his neck, the Hawaiian shirt-clad vulpine took a moment to rotate his right arm in its socket. "That's because I normally do this quickly; in and out. I know where the important stuff is: canned meat, instant ramen cups, soda, etcetera, etcetera..." he replied, attempting to wave off his semi-buddy's concern.

Mulling over that response for a moment, the tiny vulpine's ears flattened back in both concern and annoyance. "...You know," Finnick spoke. "Shouldn't you have gone to college, before eating like you're attending one?"

Raising an eyebrow, the male vulpine raised his head to meet the firm gaze of his partner up high in the children's seat. "There is nothing wrong with my diet," Nick firmly declared.

Crossing his arms over his chest, the tiny vulpine replied, "Dude, I live in the back of a **van**! And even I know the value of a good meal! Just because I go for off-label brands doesn't mean I can't also whip up something nice for myself." He smirked. "You haven't lived until you've tried my three-bean, five-cheese dip with sour cream and guacamole! I make a dish of that and I have a meal for two that keeps Cherry and I warm on those cold Tundratown nights."

The taller of the two vulpine con-mammals twitched. Why did the little prick have to keep bringing up his relationship with Cherry lately? It felt like the little guy was trying to rub it in his face. "I do happen to eat more than what I listed. I'll have you know that I also pay two bucks out of my share to enjoy one of our pawpsicles now and then."

Finnick glared down at his partner-in-law bending. "Wilde..." he began in a chiding tone.

"What's wrong with our pawpsicles!?" The taller of the two predators snapped in response. "They're organic! Chock full of vitamins and minerals!" He chimed out in his defense.

The desert fox snorted. "Any vitamins is from the less than one-percent actual juice. And the minerals it pulls from the terracotta roof shingles of the houses the syrup rolls down in the Sahara Square District are about as organic as those things get!" He paused. "Well, the roof shingles and anything else the pawpsicle fluid manages to pull out of the rain gutters they pour out through."

"I like to refer to that as roughage!" Nick chirruped merrily. God knew a pawpsicle a day could help him stay regular, despite his ramen-induced constipation.

Continuing to look down at his fellow fox, the tiny mammal sighed in exasperation. "Wilde, you do realize even when you were living in that boiler room, you had a sink, a hot plate, and pots to cook with," Finnick continued. "You can make _real_ food! You know: stuff that **doesn't** come out of a plastic wrapper."

"Once again, nothing wrong with what I eat," was the red fox's staunch denial.

Glaring down at the mammal in deeper in denial than an Egyptian local, the desert fox pulled out the big guns. "...Don't make me tell Honey on you."

Nick paused, visibly startled by that threat before collecting himself and meeting his fellow fox's glare with his own. "That's **low**."

The petit predator let off a snort. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you," Finnick continued, ignoring the other mammal's angry stare. "You can eat better on your own accord or Honey will make you. Either way, you're gonna get healthy food stuffed into you, it just depends on how much in one sitting."

Realizing he wasn't going to get his partner-in-law bending to drop it, Wilde rolled his eyes in annoyance. "When did this go from shopping for Carmelita to MY personal diet?"

"When I suddenly realized just how big and buff your dad was while you're even more of a waif than your mom," the desert fox said in all seriousness.

The crimson-pelted canid in viridian Hawaiian shirt looked up with a half-lidded gaze that would have been more at home on the fennec's face. "...Low blow dude. Low fudging blow..."

The tiny vulpine snorted. "I'm serious man. Look, just get me down the aisle a bit further to pick up some Tuna Helper and then we'll go to the deli. We'll start this off easy, get you some cheeses... something to give you stronger bones and put some weight on you..." he trailed off as he thought about it. "The _good_ kind of weight, not what that fatass Clawhauser let himself turn into," he added quickly. Bad enough the cheetah became a _cop_ of all things but he let himself go **terribly**!

Inhaling deeply to try and calm himself, the taller vulpine mammal held it in for a few seconds before exhaling in exasperation. "Can we just drop my diet, _please_?" The red fox practically pleaded with his compatriot in conning.

"No," was the fennec's firm response. "Simply put, I don't want to hear you whining at me for weeks that she doesn't want to date you because you're too skinny."

Needless to say, that accusation caught the taller predator's attention. "Who said I was going to ask her out?"

Finnick gave him a hooded gaze. "We're at a grocery store, getting her food."

"We're being paid to do so," was the red fox's blunt response.

The petite vulpine continued to speak as if he hadn't been interrupted. "She's also a fox–literally and figuratively–has a pulse, and you're due for another crash-and-burn relationship at this point."

The con-mammal twitched. The male red fox absolutely despised being reminded of his numerous failed relationships. "...She's a cop," he finally said, trying to use one of Finnick's own arguments against him.

The fennec didn't even blink. "Oh, like _that_ would be the worst issue you've ever had in a relationship." The desert fox said seriously. "Remember Krystal? Girl was jumping between biker gangs and dying her fur blue! I think it's safe to say Officer Fox has at least a little more on the ball than she did."

Nick lowered his head, groaning in aggravation. He placed his hands on the handlebar and began pushing the cart a bit more before coming to a stop. "Just... just grab the Tuna Helper already."

Chuckling a bit at his heterosexual business partner's discomfort, the petite vulpine stood on his tip-toes before reaching up, managing to knock a box into the cart, where it landed atop of and bounced off one of the cans of soups and vegetables. Nodding his head when it hadn't broken open from such a rough landing, he turned about and sat down in the child's seat of the cart once more. "Okay, Wilde! To the deli counter! Mush you old dog, MUSH!"

"Hey!" The red fox clad in a green Hawaiian shirt called out in obvious irritaition. "I'm not pulling this damned thing! I'm pushing it! If anything, you're the one I should be telling to mush!" He told his partner in a threatening manner...

...Only to have the threat die in his throat as a feminine voice crooned out, "Oh, what an adorable child!"

Both vulpine males twitched as they turned towards the sight of an overweight feline woman. A snow leopardess to be precise, meaning a lot of her rounded frame was her breed's winter weight that kept her comfortable in the arctic chill of the Tundratown District. And oh, she was dressed rather smartly, with a lovely white blouse with baby blue jacket and skirt combination, with sheer stockings and white open-toed high-heeled shoes; definitely the high end of business fashion. "I just want to say it's so nice to see a father spending time with their kid," she purred, bending over to peer at the fox in the child's seat of the cart.

Finnick raised an eyebrow. Now he may have been in a relationship with Cherry but even he could see potential when he saw it... and no one could ever say he wasn't a sucker for the larger women–even the Arctic vixen stood a head taller than him. So opening his eyes as wide as he could so that they shimmered with the reflected illumination of the florescent lights above him, the vulpine smiled as sweetly as possible. He then yipped out, as cutely as he could in as high pitched a voice as he could manage, "Ba-ba!"

And then the desert fox dove his head into the woman's cleavage without preamble. Enjoying the surprising amount of warmth and softness, he brought his hands atop the woman's mammaries, massaging them most happily. Oh, how he had always wanted to experience, 'marshmallow hell' and this snow leopardess had _**THE**_ most absolute perfect mounds of winter snow for him to enjoy!

Nick twitched at how his partner in hustle enjoyed himself despite being in a relationship, the red fox's muzzle opening to correct the woman... only to snap his trap shut as a thought came to him. Seeing the pair like that caused the gears of his mind to begin spinning, as Wilde's head was slowly filled with numerous ideas for future endeavors for them to try once Carmelita had moved on. Particularly since he knew one of his dad's colleagues in the tailoring business specialized in costumes for children... i.e. mammals that were Finnick's size.

 _A~aaand show time_ , the red fox thought gleefully before coughing a few times to clear his throat. "Thank you, ma'am," he said graciously once he was able to find his voice. "But... er..." he purposely stuttered, making a show of appearing anxious.

Noticing the discomfort of the, 'father' the feline female turned her head to give him her attention. "What?" The woman asked in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing much," the canid con-mammal said slowly, in a careful manner. "It's just you _might_ want to put him down; we just got back from the doctors."

The rosette-patterned feline woman's eyes went wide with surprise, unaware that Finnick was sending him a, 'do not fuck this up for me' glare. "Doctor's!?" She squeaked, suddenly feeling fearful for the little boy. Come to think of it, she _had_ thought his voice sounded a little deep for such a small child.

"Yeah," Nick said, trying to look embarrassed—he'd had plenty of practice with his lifestyle. "My poor boy," the male vulpine continued. "He's got a bad, and I mean BAD case of Pachydermitis! Thinks he's an elephant! Clings to the nearest big women he sees, because his brain sees and registers them as an **elephant**!" Seeing the shock on her face, he quickly added, "Now don't be too alarmed. It's nothing contagious–thank Gouda–but I'm just letting you know because of it, he might get a tad grabby... you hold him there for too long and he might go digging in there searching for peanuts."

"Oh, the poor dear," the snow leopardess cooed as she hugged the smaller vulpine tighter in her arms, keeping his face buried in the valley of her bosom. "Do the doctors say it can be cured?"

Smiling in a kindly manner, the male vulpine nodded his head in affirmation. "Oh it certainly can with a lot of immersion therapy," the male said in all seriousness, despite the fact he was blowing smoke out his tail-hole. "I need to get him an elephant costume, let him have peanuts once a day, take him out to spend time around real elephants... eventually his mind should adjust as the years go on and he doesn't get any bigger while they do. For now though, do be careful with him. My boy, the little stinker... he just ain't right in the head!"

For his part, the desert fox merely kept quiet. While his partner wasn't exactly cock-blocking him outright, the crimson-pelted creep sure was getting his licks in on this.

Considering that bit of information for a moment, the female feline eventually nodded her head in understanding. "Well, I suppose that's not _too_ bad," she replied, holding Finnick up and getting a good look at him. "I was afraid you were going to say he had fleas or–Furry God forbid–ticks!"

"Oh no, ma'am, you don't have to worry about that!" Wild said rather jovially. It took all the fox's force of will to keep his smile from becoming an outright devious one. "But I do thank you for reminding me. I need to get him a new collar–he's just not happy getting the shots or the drops."

The snow leopardess nodded her head in understanding. "Oh, they are fussy at that age," she replied in agreement as Finnick went from a glare to flushing with embarrassment. "But I can tell from the lack of diaper that he's at least potty-trained!" She chirruped as she lowered him back to her chest. "Many fathers wouldn't even waste the time to try and help with that."

"Ma'am, I am a full believer in every mammal knowing how to use a toilet," the canid conman said in all seriousness. "I mean, we may be animals but we are evolved!" He proclaimed in a rather pious fashion as he pointed his right finger into the air in an almost imperious manner. "My son might be stuck thinking he's an elephant for the next five-to-ten years because he's sick in the head, but Gouda as my witness, he won't roll around in his own poo!"

Raising an eyebrow as he sat within feline woman's cleavage, surrounded by the softness of her bosom, the tiny desert fox tried to signal his semi-buddy that he was laying it on too darn thick!

The feline woman wiped away a tear from her eye. "Such a great father, you are..." she murmured before a sudden thought occurred to her. "Is the mother... as helpful?" she asked, giving him a look of inquiry.

His lip curling, Finnick gave a silent snarl. Great. Just friggin' great! Not only was his friend cock-blocking him but Wilde was getting even farther with the babe than he was!

Noticing the look of intense murder on his illigetimate business partner's face–which the woman fortunately missed–the vulpine replied, "Oh no... God bless her, she passed on in childbirth..." he brought his hands up to his chest, placing them over his heart as he let off a long, wistful-sounding sigh. "I've only just begun dating again, ma'am... real sweetheart of a vixen, very lawful and... well, just everything we foxes normally aren't. Hopefully she can be the role-model my special little guy needs to be an upstanding citizen, something that, I admit, I haven't been the best at what with me being... well, a fox and all..." he said with shame evident in his tone of voice.

"…" went the silent reply of the fennec from his place within the snow leopardess' cleavage. From what he knew, Nick hadn't had the balls yet to ask out the Law Fox and now... Hood Furry God! Now he was cutting out a _**sure thing**_ with a happy woman who loved his 'paternal instincts'!? _That's it_ , Finnick thought irritably. He was going to have to man up and sit his friend down and get him to come out of the den–there was no way in hell a straight guy would have this many issues!

"Aww..." sighed the feline–both at the loss of the mother and the fact someone else had already staked a claim onto such a fine upstanding male. It really was difficult to find a good man.

Smiling sweetly at the taller predator, the male red fox politely told her, "I thank you for your understanding ma'am... you were a delight to talk to... sadly we are in a bit of a rush. I need to get the little guy home in time so he can watch some Sesame Street before I put him down for his nap. He gets cranky if he can't see his Mr. Snuffleupagus!"

The snow leopardess in fine attire nodded her head in understanding and gently picked the 'baby' up out of her cleavage and set him back down into the carriage seat. She leaned in and told the desert fox in a sweet tone, "Now you be a good little man for your daddy, all right? She said with a smile as she pat the fennec on the head. She then turned to Wilde and told him, "If things don't work out with this woman... please, do give me a call." She brought her purse around from her side and opened it. She reached inside and rooted around for a moment, only to retrieve a business card, which she promptly held out to the red fox in offering.

Reaching his hand out, the vulpine male gave her a beatific smile and a firm nod of his head. "I'll keep it in mind, beautiful. Thank you very much!" He watched as the woman turned about and made her way down the aisle, putting a sway to her hips. He watched but only for a little as his right ear raised high upon catching the sound of an irritated growl. Turning his gaze back up to the shopping cart, a sly grin split across the crimson-pelted canid's muzzle. "You got something you want to tell daddy, my boy?"

"Yeah," Finnick growled. "What aisle do we go down to get your balls back?" He felt he was being very reasonable–why, he hadn't even once considered grabbing the condoms on the nearby shelf and tossing them into the cart while the two had been talking.

Tilting his head, the taller of the two vulpines gave his fellow predator a curious expression. "What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked innocently before a devious smirk blazed across his muzzle. "And watch your mouth, before Papa has to wash it out with soap!" He threatened in a teasing manner... which he would have been _more_ than happy to follow through on!

"..." went the fennec, the intensity of his glare going up a notch. "Dude!" He finally snapped out angrily. "She was basically offering you a free time, and you turned it down! What the hell is wrong with you man!?"

The vulpine's smile became one of threat to one of mischievous glee. "Ah, buy what good is a free time when I can have a number of good times by merely planting the seeds that will blossom into greater revenue?" Nick retorted in all seriousness.

The petite, sandy-furred fox blinked his big orange eyes once, twice, thrice. "Okay, it's official. You lost me on this."

That smile on the red fox's muzzle went so wide and toothy, it threatened to engulf his head. "She seemed like a gossiping cougar... the type of woman, not the actual feline," he quickly added. "The sort that goes around searching for successful single fathers, the kind that joins all the women's clubs... the women that pretty much are all over this town whether they're predator or prey..."

Nodding his head slowly as he took in all his partner was laying down, Finnick replied, "I follow you... but I don't get where you're doing with this," he admitted with a firm tone of annoyance. "Seriously! Turning down her offer for a good time helps out _**how**_?"

"Because now she'll talk about this to her Book Club or whatever she spends her free time with that there's a loving single father out there with a son who thinks he's an elephant and they should be kind and understanding to this poor overworked father who's merely trying to eke out a living while taking care of his poor, mentally-deficient boy," he explained in a rather theatrical fashion. "Meaning we'll have a MUCH easier time of getting into predominantly prey-centric establishments and businesses than we would otherwise." His smile lessened but it still showed off all his pearly whites in a rather predatory fashion. "Like the Jumbeaux Café and Ice Cream Parlor... you know, the place that sells those Jumbo Pops we use to make our own Pawpsicles? Instead of having to pay sometime twice the price if not more to get one for us, we could merely waltz right on in and purchase one outright!"

His ears flattening back against his skull, the fennec stared down at his partner.

The silence between the two was deafening until the taller of the pair finally said, "...What?"

"So you're saying ... you turned down an easy win... for future gossip to expanding your business interests?" He asked slowly, making sure he had this correct.

Nodding his head firmly, Wilde told him, "That's right. All for the hustle, buddy!"

Twitching slightly, the petite predator continued, "And if future tail comes up, you will ignore it as well. The reason being you want something with the cop... that you _**have yet to even ask out**_... or done anything really for that matter, where she might acknowledge your interest and give you the go-ahead?"

Crossing his arms over his chest at his partner's tone of voice, the crimson-pelted canid huffed in annoyance. "What's wrong with that?" Nick asked in all seriousness.

Finnick just stared down at his partner and finally blurted out in a rather blunt fashion, "I don't know if you're genius, stupid, or so stupid you come back right around to genius once again."

"And don't forget," the taller male vulpine chirruped merrily. "This also gives me a chance to get you in a tiny elephant cosplay outfit!"

The desert fox glared down at his pal. "...Stupid it is then."

The Hawaiian-shirted hustler snorted in annoyance at his partner's continued vehemence. "Oh please, you should be thanking me!" He snapped back. "I saw what you were trying to do with that woman! What if Cherry were to find out you went cleavage diving?"

The fennec's face went a few shades pale at the thought... oh no, not that he was afraid of Cherry. He would feel incredibly guilty when she broke down crying but he was outright terrified of what Angel would do to him for hurting her baby sister!

One thing that could be said for Mr. Zerdan was that he had normal fears of girl troubles. At least he could take assurance in the fact he wasn't as bad as Wilde was. He had yet to lose a girl because she decided to cross party lines.

"You wouldn't dare..." Finnick muttered heatedly under his breath as his fellow fox merely grinned deviously at him. Realizing the smarmy prick had him caught between a rock and a hard place, his shoulders sagged in defeat for the time being. "Fine, fine..." he said in resignation. "Don't see what the big deal is. I mean, it's not like I was trying to get into the woman's skirt or anything. Just wanted to feel a little heavenly bliss is all."

"Said heavenly bliss would have cost you more than you could afford if Cherry found out," Nick stated rather pointedly. He might not have been dating Vanilla anymore, but he still thought rather fondly of the Arctic vixen triplets and saw them in a friendly light. He wasn't about to have his buddy screw things up because the horn-dog sometimes lived up to the specist slur of being nothing more than a, 'Yiffer'.

Twitching irritably, the petite vulpine's impressive ears lowered and pressed against the back of his head. The desert fox then leaned over in the child's seat of the carriage, his eyes heavily lidded as he glared at his partner-in-semi-crime. "Haven't you ever heard about working a good hustle when it presents itself?" He asked irritably, the tone of annoyance in his voice that would have been prevalent to even a mammal that was as slow on the uptake as a Sloth.

"Precisely," the taller predator replied to his fellow fox. He smirked at Finnick and added, "I did the hustling while you went cleavage diving in super-soft snow leopardess mammaries even though you have a stable girlfriend. You weren't getting anything out of that _BUT_ the good time..." he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, taking on a rather imperious position. "Still, I made sure to make something useful out of the situation! Now you be a good boy and wave to daddy all sweetly while we head to the deli. And remember to keep up the act, big guy. If animals see you talking in the carriage, word might get back to the lovely leopardess... and that will get her talking about being tricked by a nasty little fennec and word travels fast... possibly all the way to Tundratown via the gossip grapevine" he warned in a very threatening manner, despite his overall cool demeanor he conveyed.

Finnick's eyes widened. The girls did treat a lot of mammals in the city as professional comfort vixens, whether their clients would admit to it or not. And if they got a gossiper who had met that fine feline of heavenly bliss...?

Yep, there was only one solution to this problem.

"...Da-da..." Zerdan blurted out in his usual firm baritone voice.

Winking at his pal, the crimson-pelted canid uncrossed his arms and gave the smaller vulpine a pair of thumbs-up. "Good boy!" Nick praised, his muzzle plastered with a silly grin. Oh, if _**only**_ he had thought of such a scam sooner! The amount of opportunities that they would have had for business! _My own fault for having a healthy dose of respect for my partner, I suppose_ , he mentally surmised as he began to push the carriage once more along the aisle. "And remember, my special little guy," he chirruped up to the petite predator sitting in the carriage. "If you see anything that was on that list we got from, 'Mama Carmelita' you bet a good little kit and wave those arms, knock it into the carriage."

The small vulpine glared down at the smirking pain-in-the-tail as he realized he was expected to still do excess work despite having to humiliate himself playing the part of an infant. _I hate you so much right now_ , Finnick thought irritably as they made their way down the aisle and hopefully to the Deli section. "Da..." he chirruped sweetly in his deep voice, not even trying to hide it as well as he could have. Still, at least Wilde couldn't argue with him to take a turn pushing the shopping cart anymore. It was all on the red fox now.

And seeing how those arms wobbled and wavered as he continued to push the steadily growing weight of the steel carriage, the desert fox took glee from the suffering of his illegitimate business partner; it becoming quite obvious Nick was starting to realize that little truth about this venture at the moment.

Eventually getting the carriage sized more for a bovine up the aisle, the male red fox was able to push the cart past the end-cap of the product lane before he began huffing and puffing in ways that would have sounded more appropriate to an overweight cheetah whose place he was currently crashing at. "Maybe..." he gasped out between breaths. "Maybe I should start eating more than..." he gasped and panted. "More than the instant shrimp and tofu ramen cups..." he wheezed out, having to lean over with hands on his knees as he breathed deeply for dear life.

Rolling his eyes at how out of shape his partner was, Finnick was at least thankful it wasn't because Wilde was an out of shape lard-ass. _Although that would help me when we have to split because a scam goes South_ , he surmised. After all, when a con went belly up, you didn't need to be the fastest runner... just faster than the other guy.

It was a few minutes but eventually the vulpine in Hawaiian shirt and tie managed to pull himself together. "Okay..." Nick began as he continued to pant heavily. "New..." he trailed off as he wheezed again. "New plan! Next time we come here, we make sure to get one of those scooters or..." again he went into a small coughing fit. "Or have someone help us." He was certain there were probably a few people who would help them...

So long as the price was right, of course. After all, pure altruism just **wasn't** a virtue in this city!

 _Except for one Benjamin Clawhauser_ , the canid con-mammal was quick to silently remind himself. He really couldn't think of anyone else who would be willing to help a fox out just because they were having trouble like his overweight friend. Really, the portly feline was one in a million. The only other two mammals the fox could think of that would help him out of the goodness of their hearts were a no go in this situation. Honey never left her bunker and there was just no way he could bring himself to go see Francine...

...His mother.

Nick quickly shook his head, banishing thoughts of the lovely vixen who had raised him. He couldn't go back to her. Not a chance in a hell. With all he'd done, with what _WAS_ out there and after him, the male vulpine would rather die alone in a ditch than bring that kind of trouble to her door-step. Oh no, his mom was better off **without** him in her life.

Taking another deep breath, the scarlet-pelted fox finally straightened up... looking at the carriage, he cringed again before making an effort to get it rolling once more. Hands firmly holding onto the lower of the two sets of handle bars, the vulpine began pushing himself firmly against it. The steel shopping cart travelled along on its wheels, moving along the back wall before coming to a stop at the deli, just before the ticket counter.

Despite the joy he deprived from his fellow fox's physical suffering, Finnick was kind enough to lean over in his seat and grasp a ticket from the device. Pulling it free from the holder, he released the small piece of paper and let it float down harmlessly to the gasping and heaving vulpine, his Hawaiian shirt now starting to look rather damp from all the sweat.

Nick didn't notice at first, instead choosing to slump down beside his carriage like a melting ice-cream cone as he panted hard. "How... do rodents and rabbits do it?" He wheezed, grateful that he could relax for a few moments at least. The last thing he needed was to try and push the damned free-wheeling steel Gym disguised as a grocery store cart any further at the moment. He sure as hell didn't look forward to pushing this to the front counter or out to the van. Maybe the store had some people who helped in that last regard? He would have to ask, because doing such would take him all day.

Especially since he was parked at the _**VERY END**_ of the parking lot for Gouda's sake! _Darn Finnick and his desire to not get any more dents and nicks in his Ford P.O.S. than it already has_ , the vulpine mentally griped as he continued to breathe in and out... so much so that he almost missed the annoyed voice of a giraffe behind the counter.

"Number twenty-six? Do we have a number twenty-six anywhere?" The woman decked out in white apron and disposable plastics garments asked, calling out amongst the numerous mammals that were already gathered and looking at their tickets again to make certain they didn't have it.

The sweat still trickling down the sides of his head, Nick opened his paw which held the paper that his partner had grabbed. Taking a good look at it, the crimson-pelted canid's eyes went wide as he realized that he had the small ticket that was adorned with the numbers two and six.

Looking back and forth amongst the gathered customers for a moment more and getting nothing but silence, the long-neck herbivore behind the counter nodded her head in acceptance that it was a lost ticket. "All right then! Number twenty-se—"

"I'm number twenty-six!" Wilde shouted as he climbed up along the side of his carriage as if he were rock climbing out in the Meadowlands or Outback Island Districts, using the mesh-net style of the shopping cart to climb up higher and get into view. "That's me!" He called out again even louder as he waved his ticket to garner the woman's attention.

Fortunately, for him, the giraffe woman _**did**_ notice and was able to lean her neck out over the deli case, bringing her head close enough to him where she could see the ticket he was holding. Nodding in acceptance, the woman's eyes rolled up to look at the smaller mammal before she asked, "What do you want?" Of course, the gruff tone of her voice had the unspoken inquiry of, 'can you even pay for this?'

Ignoring that unsaid implications the female herbivore took with him, Nick merely gave her a disarming smile. "Why yes, please. I'm going to need a few things actually..." he pulled out the list from his pocket that the lovely Latina vixen had written up and began to list off, "A quarter pound of American cheese, a quarter pound of Swiss cheese, a quarter pound of Cheddar cheese, a whole pound of Good Migration's exclusive, 'Tofloaf' and if you make these next two items fresh, a quart container of egg salad and another quart container of tuna salad, please!" He then gave her a toothy grin, trying to convey how nice he was so. As he learned long ago, sometimes the most effective way to get under someone's skin was with kindness.

Looking at him for a moment, the spotted camelopardalis woman rolled her eyes at the rather cheesy pleasantries before slowly straightening her neck up, being careful not to bump her bulbous horns against the ceiling. She then began to move to the left along the case, going for a section where they kept cheeses, showing that while it was very likely she might have personally not liked certain customers, the fact was the customer was always right and she was willing to serve the vulpine just as she would any other mammal.

Really, that fact alone was the hidden statistic of why Good Migrations was able to become so successful in a City-State predominantly filled private-owned family businesses. Just like Snarlbucks–who managed to enter the market share before the international grocery store chain–had discovered, when you catered to everyone, you got the largest clientele base.

It was something the company taught her and all the other employees of Good Migrations, 'A predator's green is just as good as a prey's, so long as it isn't counterfeit'. Being a company based outside of Zootopia, it didn't matter to them if their subordinates greatly disliked a species because they were carnivore in nature or not. As long as they had money and weren't causing problems, who cared?

Seeing the woman wasn't giving him any grief over him wanting to do business, the male red fox sighed quietly in relief as he continued to grip onto the side of the carriage and hold on for dear life, his hands and feet using the wire-mesh styling of the shopping cart as finger and foot holds. And to think, once he got the goods from the deli, he was going to have to move on through the rest of the store with new weight added from the deli items! Good furry Jesus, he needed to find an easier way to shop. _Maybe I could find a donkey and ask for help in the future?_ He thought for a moment before dismissing it outright. Donkeys may have been the toughest, strongest sons of bee-sting-itches in Zootopia for their size and species–only beaten out by the wily and buff honey badgers–but they were also notoriously stubborn and didn't let go of old grudges easily. There was no way one would work for a fox!

Seeing the emotions play across his partner's face, Finnick couldn't help but whisper, "Gee, Wilde... looks like you didn't think this con out thoroughly did you?" He chuckled as he saw the taller vulpine twitch in irritation.

"I am so getting you in a diaper for that one, _little man_ ," Nick whispered back in a threatening manner before turning his attention to the deli itself and the mammals working it, slicing up bricks of dairy goodness and scooping up homemade-style foods for quick and easy deployment into weighable plastic and Styrofoam containers. It would seem that this was the busiest section of the store for predators... and even rodents as they were lined up _**ATOP**_ the counter thanks to a special elevator lane for them.

As more and more animals gathered, the red fox in a viridian Hawaiian shirt and striped tie realized that his partner and him had gotten there at the best possible moment; they had been the rush and their cart was getting pushed closer to the counter as more mammals crowded in. Of course, the vast majority of which were predators and a few of the more omnivore-aligned species such as pigs and raccoons. He had to suppress a shudder at all some of the other customer's calls for insect foods: roach loaf, mealworm cheese, sautéed snails, mashed cricket salad, and beetle pasta salad just to name a few...

 _Ugh, no wonder dad was a professed vegetarian_ , the canid con-mammal thought as he tried to distract himself from the requests for grub–both the foodstuff and the actual insect larva–the predator deli employees served their fellow carnivores by looking up at the television set the store had hanging from the ceiling in the deli for customers. It was currently on ZNN, the news-anchors Fabienne Growley and Peter Moosebridge, often noted for their complimentary nature with one another, having a heated argument over...

His eyes widened as he saw it as a picture of Carmelita that was superimposed on the background behind them and positioned between the pair of news-mammals so that neither of the newscasters covered it up. His ears twitching and finding no audibility from the set, the male vulpine climbed a bit higher on the shopping cart. "Hey! HEY!" He called up, hoping to get the attention of one of the deli attendants. "Excuse me! Hey! Can someone turn that up? Please?"

Hearing a request, a hippo standing by said set as he washed his hands in the sink shrugged and did just that, raising his hand to press the bottom of the set undo the mute function before returning to cleaning his impressive mitts. It wasn't an unreasonable request. After all, it wasn't like this was a movie and a plot-important thing was happening on the television as a cheap if not clichéd way to build tension.

"...am here at the scene of arrest with the ZPD's latest recruit, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox!" the jaguar one the screen chimed as before the camera lowered and zoomed to reveal the Latina vixen in question.

Nick could barely paid attention to what was being said at first, deeply shocked by the fact Carmelita was _**already**_ in the news. _Well, maybe not_ , he decided after a moment. She was a fox, and a fox having **actual** police authority was rather newsworthy after all. _Still, that was..._

He never got to finish that thought as the news reporter mentioned her stopping a rhino criminal who had done several smash and grabs in the past. His bright emerald eyes widened as he caught sight of the horned herbivore that was being carted off onto a much larger police vehicle on the screen. _She caught the guy that robbed me!?_ Wilde thought with complete and utter shock and awe. It was a couple of months back when a con of Finnick's and his went South dur to a boar and that rhino beating him up and taking the day's earnings at that point. Considering that table-top gig had made enough to pay off a half-year's worth of rent at that time, he was still quite sour about it. _And the cops never did anything for me_ , he mentally groused, still enamored with the fact it was Officer Fox of all people who showed that dumb lummox who was boss.

Even said desert fox, who had been playing the part of, 'a dumb baby' was paying close attention to the news with growing fascination. Especially as the vulpine woman went on about her weapon, her training, and how she intended to see to it that Zootopia became a better place for all, no matter what their background was. She was so impassioned about it that even he, the biggest cynic of all, almost believed she really could do it.

Indeed, both men were so engaged by the news that it literally took the giraffe leaning her head in once more to where she was practically in their faces. "Excuse me, sir!" She chirruped to get his attention. "I got the first part of your order here."

Turning his attention to the spotted African even-toed ungulate mammal, the vulpine nodded his head, both to shake clear his senses as well as let her know he understood. "Ah! Thank you, ma'am!" And with their cart having been pushed closer, the woman was actually able to reach her lengthy limbs over the counter; the canid retrieving the plastic bagged sliced cheeses and tofu before dropping them into the cart carefully so as not to get them crushed by cans and such. He turned his head once more to ask her about the rest of the order, only to find she was already working on scooping up a portion of the egg salad on display in the deli case.

So with that taken care of, Nick returned his attention to the TV, needing to strain to hear what was being said... a tad difficult since the other mammals were now also speaking amongst themselves. While conversation wasn't an unusual way for strangers to pass the time, mammals were usually doing such on their phones, not face-to-face with strangers in this day and age...

And even more interesting? The often-scheming vulpine realized they were talking about Carmelita and the news report that was playing.

Having noticed the same thing as his partner, Finnick could barely believe what was happening. The girl had just gotten the job and was news already! And not for the reason that foxes usually got on the news either, oh no! She was getting mammals talking and questioning what they knew! _Man, that's crazy_ , he thought with scant comprehension of the implications such meant. _What's next? An army of lemmings invading the police station?_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pausing in his writing, Chief Bogo visibly twitched as a chill went down his spine. Placing his pen down, the man reached over for his phone before pausing in mid-motion, holding his hooved hand aloft. With how the day had gone so far, the cape buffalo wasn't going to risk something worse happening.

Oh, but it was tempting to call the front desk and ask if everything was alright. _No, forget that. I pick up that phone and a flash flood of some sort will sweep through the city. I'll just go check it out personally_ , the Chief of Police decided before he brought his hand down to the ledge of the desk and pushed his chair back. Standing up from his seat, the bovine then walked around his desk and made his way over to the door, his hand reaching out to turn the handle and open it...

...Or at least, he **tried** to as the doorknob popped off instead.

Closing his eyes, Chief Bogo barely suppressed the whimper he wanted to sound off as he gazed down at the busted knob in his hand and lamented the fact the other part of the knob was on the floor outside the door. "Well, this has certainly been one of _**those**_ days..." he growled as he clenched his fist, squeezing the metal in his hand with enough strength that the shape within his grasp shifted from the pressure.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sir!" The female giraffe's voice pulled Nick back to reality once more. "I've got your salad right here!"

His attention pulled from the TV set once more, the male red fox smiled at the long-necked mammal. "Thank you again, ma'am!" The vulpine replied merrily as he reached out with one hand to take hold of the egg salad before carefully lowering it into the cart. "One more to go!" He chirruped as he gave the much taller herbivore a thumbs-up and a wider smile.

Nodding her head, the woman managed to smile back a little as she went back to behind to deli counter to have one of the wolves retrieve the requested tuna salad as well. As Nick awaited the last of his order, his triangular ears rose up and twitched as he now listened to the other customers talk amongst one another... or to be more precisely, talk about what they witnessed on the television.

" _Do you believe that? A fox took down a rhino..._ "

" _Think she flashed him her tits?_ "

" _I think she flashed him that gun_."

" _They should let more members of the police have those things._ "

" _Are you kidding? I don't trust them with Tasers! My tail fur is still singed from when that one asshole pulled his out in the Rainforest District during a downpour_!"

" _Hard to believe a tiny Chomper like that took such a big bite out of crime._ "

" _Maybe the times_ _ **are**_ _changing..._ "

None of that was expected and Nick wasn't sure how to react to it. It was weird for the canid male to hear other mammals say things about foxes that weren't simply derogatory or just plain negative. He just... wasn't sure what to think. With one simple arrest, Carmelita had mammals talking and questioning the city's status quo.

Finnick was pretty much in the same boat as his fellow perplexed pred albeit for different reasons. On one paw, Carmelita was a cop, you just couldn't trust them! Sure, some were trying to do their jobs but others were corrupt pricks out to make a buck for themselves and even those that weren't on the take were only looking for convictions when it came to investigations. You were always better off requesting a lawyer or asking if you were being detained–and if you weren't, it was best to just pick up and get the heck out of dodge! A lifetime of experience taight the desert fox that cops were not your friend, no matter **what** the circumstances. Yes that included Clawhauser and that sucked, because Finnick _**liked**_ the big oaf!

On the other paw, this might help foxes get better treatment in the future. Like Nick, he realized that what the Latina lady did cast vulpines in a whole new light that other animals weren't used to seeing them in, be they fellow predator or condescending prey!

Finnick... was so heavily torn over this.

Again, both vulpine men were so deep in thought that the camelopardalis behind the counter had to lean her head in and once more to get in their faces; it seemed to be the only way to get their attention. "Sir! Sir, I got your tuna salad here?" She said firmly.

Blinking his bright green eyes once, twice, thrice, the Hawaiian shirt-clad hustler had to shake his head to clear it his mind and bring himself back to the here and now. "Er, right! Right! Sorry about that ma'am," he chuckled nervously as he took his right hand off the carriage and scratched the side of his head in embarrassment that wasn't necessarily feigned. "Forgive me. I've been a tad too distracted lately with everything going on, taking care of my boy and whatnot," he made certain to get in, just in case someone was listening to them. "It's tiring just pushing him around in a shopping cart, let alone being a single dad all day."

The female herbivore blinked her eyes a few times at that comment. "You... you do know we also have motorized carriages for smaller mammals like you... right?" She queried, although she could tell by the growing look of surprise on his face that such was a definite, 'no'.

Both foxes, ' _father and son_ ' stared at her, hard. "But I thought those were just for the disabled and elderly!" Nick yelped, unable to hide his shock; promise to never let them see they got to him be **damned**! He could take the mental pressure any day of the week, physical fatigue was a whole other kettle of fish!

"Yes," the female giraffe replied honestly. "But how do you think all the much smaller and weaker mammals like the mice and rabbits shop here?" She was quick to explain, eliciting a groan from the fox as understanding came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks. Taking a bit of pity of the smaller mammal, she quickly told him to, "Hang on." She leaned back and moved her head, the horned herbivore's length neck stretching over the scalps of her fellow employees as her own head came close to the open door at the back. "Hey, Rhett! I've got someone who can't move their cart! Help them to the front to get one of the motorized carts, will you?"

" _Sure, sure!_ " A male voice sounded out from the back before a male deer clad in the same white garb as the other deli attendants came walking out through the open door. He paused, blinking his eyes in surprise as he saw the long-necked African herbivore's outstretched right hooved hand motioning over to a pair foxes... before shrugging his shoulders in acceptance. "All right, you're done here at the deli?" He watched as the fox in a patterned green shirt nodded. "Let's get to the front then, there's assistants who'll help."

No, he wasn't a mammal that liked foxes all that much–growing up in Deerbrook County kind of molded him into such an outlook–but it was against store policy to discriminate against anyone unless they were stealing or breaking merchandise, and he didn't want to lose his job over giving a Chomper some lip. After all, he had bills to pay!

The taller of the two vulpine men blinked his eyes in surprise at the otherwise calm demeanor the taller prey animal was giving him. "Uh... thank you..." Nick replied slowly, finding this to be a whole new experience. He couldn't think of a time in his life when mammals would go out of their way to help foxes... even someone like him. Sure, store policy was in place but he knew there were many herbivores that would be willing to overlook someone like him and make argument that he was so tiny they happened to miss him.

Oh yes... Carmelita **deserved** those name-brand labels.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the all-terrain military truck that was repurposed into a police cruiser pulled up the ramp and into the ZPD parking garage, the driver looked around the interior of the vehicle and breathed in deeply to try and calm herself. Papers, crumbs, aluminum foil, plastic bags, and empty condiment packets were littered all about with no rhyme or reason. "I haven't even had this thing for twenty-four hours and it's already a mess..." she replied with a most devastated sigh.

Noticing the displeasure in his fellow officer's voice, the chubby cheetah did his best to give her a soft and reassuring smile. "Aww, it'll be okay Officer Fox," he said with an upbeat tone. "We have an H-Vac in the garage for this very reason! If you want I'll even give you a hand emptying the trash before we go about vacuuming."

Turning to look at him, the Latina vulpine gazed at the man with a half-lidded gaze. "You better: you're the one who made the vast majority of this mess in the first place." He was certainly an enthusiastic eater. Heck, if she were honest with herself, she could admit that she hadn't seen anyone **that** into their food since Murray! _And boy, could the hippo ever put it away_ , the vixen thought with a bit of mirth.

"...At least I ate my clam chowder at counter of the Wannabite's truck," he offered helplessly, as if admitting that he could have been even messier with his meal made what did occur all that much more acceptable.

Bringing her right hand up to the side of her head, Carmelita rubbed her temple before actually laughing. "You're right. If you had the chowder in here, then we'd have to shampoo the upholstery atop of everything else," the vulpine told him with a small laugh. In the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't anything worth getting upset over after all. Especially in comparison with everything wrong with this city a mammal _SHOULD_ raise a stink about. "As long as you're willing to lend a helping paw with the clean-up, that would be great."

Nodding his head firmly, the feline caused the portly joules of his face to bounce slightly. "No problem, Officer Fox!" He chirruped merrily as she pulled up into a parking space close to the entrance which happened to be vacant. A good thing too as this placed them that much closer to the slightly rusted steel equipment locker once more. As the woman turned the key and shut the engine off, the portly policeman couldn't help but offer, "Say... we're going to be off the clock now. Would it be all right to call you, 'Carmelita' now?"

Sighing good-naturedly at just how cheerfully positive and personable the mammal tried to be, the Hispanic red fox considered his request for a moment before finally nodding her head in acceptance. "All right, all right..." she relented. "You can call me by name now, _Benjamin_ ," the vulpine beauty replied, doing the same in turn for him.

She had to cringe at the high-pitched squeal of delight the plump feline released in response.

Deciding to spare her eardrums, the woman reached down and pressed the button on her belt, unbuckling herself before that hand outstretched to her left to pull the handle and cause the door to unlock. Using her foot to push the door open, the navy blue-tressed vixen jumped down. She walked away a few steps to put some distance between her and the shrill noise of delight, the little Latina lady raising her arms over her head and stretching. "Nnnngh..." she murmured, only to suddenly yelp in shock as her back let loose an incredibly audible cracking noise; the woman barely suppressing a whimper as her legs wobbled a little bit.

The yelp immediately snapped the cheetah out of the heights of pleasure the woman using his name caused. He looked over to his left see the woman starting to slump over and went wide-eyed with shock, his fur suddenly standing on end with worry. "Goodness! Are you okay, Carmelita!?" Clawhauser shouted as he pushed the passenger's side door open and quickly made his way around the vehicle. Once beside the woman, he gently grabbed her by one of her arms, helping her stay upright. It was a good thing as she would have likely fallen on her butt otherwise. "Hello?" He spoke softly to the slightly dazed vulpine. "Are you okay?" He asked again, wanting to make certain nothing was wrong.

The woman blinked her brown eyes a few times, just trying to get over the sudden sensation of vertigo that had come over her. "Just... wow… um..." she trailed off, unsure of how to even describe the feeling that overtook her when her back popped like that. "That felt weird," was the only way the female red fox could reply. Even in all the years she went jumping across rooftops to chase a certain ring-tailed pain-in-the-ass, she had never had her back crack like that before. Finally, after a few moments, she was able to get her balance and bearings a bit more. "I'm okay. That was just such a shocking that I went numb for a moment," she admitted, omitting the fact that such was probably still an after-effect of being so roughly handled by the Mayor earlier. God almighty if she met that leonine jerk again, it would be **too darn soon**!

Nodding his head slowly in understanding –and the tiniest bit of relief that she seemed to be stabilizing–the spotted feline looked at the woman with a bit of curiousness and some lingering worry. "Is it okay to let you go?" He asked seriously. "I don't want to remove my grasp, only to have you crumple up like a marionette without strings." At the curious look she gave him, Clawhauser offered a smile in return. "Hey, you helped me up when ZNN came around. This is the least I can do... you saved my bacon!"

That got a chuckle out of the woman. "First off, it would have been terrible of me to try and humiliate you... as the interview went on, I understood that's where Mr. Cha was trying to lead the conversation and I refused to give it any merit. We succeed in making Zootopia a better place by uniting, not dividing the police force." Still, even as she said that, the seriousness of her expression gave way to a small grin. "That and what bacon was there to save? I don't think this place has any within three-to-five hundred miles of its borders!"

Turning his gaze from the vulpine, the spotted feline looked down at his belly. "I don't know... I think I may have a few pounds of tofu bacon lying in my intestines somewhere." The cheetah replied, using his other paw to gently poke at his own gut before he raised his head and looked back up to his fellow officer. He gave her a gentle grin at her as he slowly released his hold, relieved that she wasn't falling down without his paw there.

The woman chuckled and shook her head good-naturedly. "You really shouldn't put yourself down like that, Officer Claw—Benjamin," she quickly corrected herself, earning another wide and pearly-white smile from her fellow predator. "Believe me when I say you were a big help. If you hadn't suggested we stop for a meal at Wannabite's then we wouldn't have been there when that attempted theft went down. Mr. Teddy would have gotten away and still be at large to burglarize and victimize yet another civilian business."

Nodding his head in agreement with what she was saying, the portly feline chirruped, "True... there is that... but I think you're more thankful King Louis went made you _**another**_ lobster roll free of charge in thanks for getting his register and cash back."

Making her way over to the steel cabinet, the Hispanic vulpine couldn't help but admit, "Well I can't deny that I didn't enjoy it, Benjamin... that sandwich of his is absolutely magnífico! A generous helping of lobster, creamy mayo, just the right amount of citrus and rosemary seasoning..." she trailed off as she smacked her lips. "And not a single piece of celery for filler!"

The cheetah nodded his head in agreement as the woman walked off, grinning wide at just how much the Latina vixen enjoyed her food. "He makes food that's just the perfect meal for preds like us. It's just too bad there aren't more places like his." He shrugged his shoulders in an acceptance he'd long-since come to terms with. "Oh well... maybe in the future..." he murmured. With everything that was going on with this Mammal Inclusion Initiative, maybe there could be more prey that thought to take a stab at cooking like Louis had.

That statement made the vulpine pause in her step. Blinking her eyes in shock, the blue-tressed vixen turned her head to to look at her fellow police officer over her right shoulder as she queried, "There aren't more places?" That seemed highly unlikely to her. "You have to be exaggerating, Benjamin. This is a **HUGE** city! They have to have enough resources in place to cater to a predator population, and that includes dining."

"A predator population that is only one-in-ten mammals," the spotted felidae explained as he came up beside his fellow police officer. "The city handled such an aspect by focusing on either making preds become good chefs so we could make our own meals or we can subside on a, 'fast food diet'." At the curious look she gave him, the cheetah went on to explain, "For example, Bug Burga is predominant in this city, to the point where you'll find them within fifteen miles of one another... and all are _**always**_ busy. It's cheap and tasty and often the only _REAL_ choice for a lot of us. Still, for those who can afford it, there are a few hole-in-the-wall pizza parlors and Chinese restaurants that serve carnivore-appropriate entrées. But really, when it comes down to it we have Kozlov's Family Restaurant at the Snow Palace, the Hakuna Matata Bug Buffet in the Rainforest District, and the Wannabite's Truck here in Savanna Central as the only three restaurants of a predator-centric nature that are even affordable to dine at on a semi-daily basis! After that is the famed Clark Halibut's Restaurant, the crown jewel of the Tundratown District... and frankly, besides the lengthy wait to get on the reservation list that exists for us mammals that aren't some VIP, the prices there are _**crazy expensive**_!"

"That..." Carmelita shook her head in disbelief. "That's just wrong on so many levels." It certainly explained the sheer amount of mammals that were lined up at one simple food truck. No wonder Mr. Stripeamol had turned all the interior space of his truck that he could into cooking stations. He had to cater to **a lot** of mammals... something which the woman was realizing was an untapped market in this city.

"...I just hope this means Nick can get me some good groceries," she murmured as an after-thought. If they gave him any trouble, she might be inclined to give him and Finnick a bit extra in both thanks and hazard pay!

"Why of course he will!" The cheetah chirruped merrily, hoping to assuage the obvious worry that visibly crossed that woman's lovely features. "There is more than enough to find in a market-place if you know where to look!" He told her honestly. "A lot of it will be tofu but it's a way to get a food deal of protein at once, even if it is plant-based in nature." He then looked left, right, left again, and right once more before leaning in and whispering in a conspiratorial manner, "There are also rumors of an illegal contraband smuggling operation in Sahara Square... that somewhere in that District, you can get your hands on real meat: beef, venison, pork you name it!"

Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice. Meat was considered illegal contraband? "... I knew meat wasn't to be found in the city," she began slowly. "But you mean to tell me that such is by actual law and not the predominant prevailing attitude of the citizens?"

Nodding his head, Clawhauser replied, "Been on the Zootopia law-books since the City-State was founded back in 1921. All red and white meat products that originate from feral beasts and creatures–outside of fish and insects–is illegal here under terms of barbaric practice with fine of two hundred and fifty dollars AND a month's worth of jail-time that is tallied per pound discovered on the perpetrator's person or within their personal vehicle or domicile, be it one of residence or business." The way the feline knew and could recite that by heart spoke volumes of a mammal that had once desperately searched for a legal loophole.

The Hispanic policewoman could only twitch at how far the city went because they considered predators needing to eat meat, 'uncivilized'. The thought they would outright ban real meat in the city was completely asinine! That was something she wasn't prepared to give up, even if it was made a crime to have. "Seriously? You mean to tell me that it's a punishable offense in Zootopia to have meat!?" She practically barked out. 

Again, the spotted feline could only nod his head in affirmation. "Afraid so."

Bringing a hand up to rub her face, the woman sighed in exasperation. "On one hand, I should really bust this up. It would be considered illegal and an impeachment on personal freedoms anywhere else in the world. On the other paw..." Carmelita trailed off as she needed to take a moment to really think about it. "The free market works in mysterious ways. So long as it isn't manipulated unfairly, it lets animals get what they want, whether by hook or by crook and there's not a thing the law can do to stop it."

That was something Sly had told her when they had broken up a smuggling ring for various contraband a few months before everything that happened with Le Paradox went down and he ended up lost.

Raising an eyebrow at that, the portly police officer looked over at the little Latina lady with a sympathetic gaze. "Are you okay, Carmelita?" Benjamin asked, worry evident on his face. "You suddenly look a bit sad." Maybe she needed time to come to terms with the fact her diet was going more along the lines of herbivores for the foreseeable future?

"Just... I'm just remembering something, that's all," she told him somberly before shaking her head. There was no use dwelling on Cooper's disappearance. Moping about it certainly wasn't going to do anything to bring him back. "Anyway," she began to speak once more, trying to put a bit more pep into her voice than she actually felt. "Let's get to work! My squad car isn't going to clean itself!" She offered the larger feline a smile.

He smiled back in return... albeit she could see the strain to it, as if he was trying to be positive for her sake. "Just remember, Carmelita... if you ever want someone, I'm available."

That comment made the vixen blink her eyes in a surprisingly authentic owlish fashion that would have had Clockwerk applauding–at both the woman's performance and at how gob-smacked she was by the other officer's words.

Realizing what he said must have sounded like, the feline's pupils dilated down to pin-pricks as he quickly added, "TO TALK! If you ever want someone to talk to, I'm available!" He said firmly, shaking his head with enough force that he caused his excess rolls of body weight on his frame to jiggle with the motion.

The expedient explanation helped the navy blue-haired vixen calm a bit, even if it left her a little shaken. "Sorry Benjamin. It's just sometimes people make that offer for... shall we say, less than noble reasons?" She managed a more natural smile as the cheetah nodded his head, understanding what she was getting at. Wanting to break the odd tableau that fell upon them from that faux pas, the female red fox offered, "Anyway, shall we?"

"Sure!" The cheetah replied, hoping to put that little slip of the tongue behind them as they both made their way to the storage cabinet to retrieve some cleaning supplies.

Needless to say, having a pair of paws made for a much easier task, although actually cleaning of the police cruiser took far longer than it had any right to take. Both for the expected reasons, such as collecting all the scattered wax papers and due to a bit more... unusual circumstances.

"Why is there a pair of socks!?" Carmelita yelled, crinkling her nose at the discovered lower paw covers. "Where did these come from!?" It was a genuine inquiry, particularly since she'd seen so few mammals that actually donned the footwear that would require such!

The spotted wildcat appeared to be just as perplexed as his fellow officer. "I... I have **no** clue," Clawhauser admitted. He knew for a fact the vehicle had been clean when they got it, yet those socks appeared as though they had been in the squad car for months based on how they looked and smelled. "Maybe they got hidden under the seat and no one knew about it?" It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened. He heard about the officers who had an entire bag of Clawburst candies that went missing for almost a year before they were found in the trunk of another car... shockingly enough, they were said to have still been good.

Releasing a small breath of exasperation, Carmelita looked over to her fellow Zootopia Police Officer as she replied, "Probably. Reminds me of all the times I would find Sly's little calling cards all over our place, even though he had stopped using them for _**years**_. Odd little spots like in the sock drawer, stuffed in a kitchen cabinet, stuck inside and **clogging** the shower drain..." she listed off. "Really, it was like we had an infestation of ants, only it was blue papers that kept cropping up out of nowhere!"

Considering that for a moment, Clawhauser chirruped, "You know I have the same problem with donuts..." although left unsaid was that they often showed up **on him**. Underneath a pectoral, caught in his armpit, or hidden in the folds of his neck for example. Still, he was never one to turn down a, 'sudden surprise snack' so it was often a jolly good time to have one pop up!

Unless they were jelly filled. They usually made their presence known before he discovered them for all the wrong reason... those traitorous treats!

Before the cheetah could go off onto a tangent about the dangers of the most treasonous event in his life he referred to as, 'The Boston Cream Donut Party' the radio set within the dashboard of Carmelita's vehicle began to crackle; the lights on it blinking to life. "Oh! Let me get that," he spoke up as he opened the driver's side door and leaned into the vehicle, his right arm stretching out for the radio receiver. Bringing it over to his mouth, he clicked the button on the side. "Hello, Officer Clawhauser responding!"

" _Officer Clawhauser,_ " the voice on the speakers in the squad car went off. " _Is Officer Fox with you?_ "

Nodding his head, Benjamin chirruped, "That's a 10-4 Affirmative. Car—I mean, Officer Fox is with me by the car," he stated, trying to cover his slip-up; he figured the vulpine would want him to be professional when it came to work. "We were cleaning the interior after we had returned from the day's outing!"

" _Good. Send her up to Chief Bogo's office. He wants to have a word with her. Over._ "

Blinking his eyes at the rather curt reply on the other end of Dispatch before the person had cut out, all the portly cheetah could reply was, "Over."

Seeing the confusion on the man's face Carmelita looked at him and shrugged, trying to convey that he shouldn't let the bluntness bother him. "Shall we finish this first?"

Clawhauser gave her a small smile. "Sure. No point in starting a job and leaving it incomplete, after all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking up to the cape buffalo's personal office, the female red fox looked over the empty frame that made up the entrance. "...Your door is missing," Carmelita commented as she stepped into the workspace, the Hispanic vulpine getting a sigh from the Chief in response.

Placing his pen down on the desk, the horned herbivore raised his head to look at his new subordinate. "The handle broke earlier and I had to have it removed so people could get in or out," Chief Bogo grumbled irritably in explanation. "I had to break the window so I could yell at someone to clean up the mess and call maintenance to make repairs."

Turning back and looking down the floor and noticing that yes, there were indeed a number of broken glass shards in the carpet. Officer Fox couldn't help but raise an eyebrow before returning her attention back to the man that would be serving as her superior for the next six months or so. "...And you didn't simply use your phone _because_?" She asked as her attention was drawn to cradle and receiver settled prominently to the ebony-skinned herbivore's right on his desk, in view for all to see.

Looking up, the much taller mammal met the petite predator's questioning gaze with a firm stare of his own. "With the way this day has gone, using it would have caused an earthquake that would have sent the station crashing into the earth," the muscular bovidae replied as if such worries were simple fact.

That made the Latina vulpine woman blink her eyes once, twice. Considering how the day had gone, she couldn't have really faulted him for such paranoia. "...And you don't have a cell phone either?"

"..."

"...Sir?" The navy blue-tressed vixen chirruped in worry.

Bringing a his right hand up to his face, the African buffalo groaned as he rubbed his eyes with his hooved digits.

Sighing, Officer Fox couldn't help but lament, "You forgot you had a cell phone, didn't you?"

Lowering his hand, the man met the woman's gaze once more. "I usually leave it in my jacket pocket... unless I get a call from someone directly, I hardly use it." He grumbled and shook his head. Well, there were also all the Gazelle apps he downloaded but he wasn't about to share **that** bit of information. "Since you're now here, would you mind taking a seat and giving me you report concerning the apprehension notorious crook Rock S. Teady? We don't have you in the system yet but I would be glad to handle your paperwork... this one time," Bogo said pointedly as he put his hands in front of his head and as he rested his elbows on the desk.

If either of them were more versed in those weird Japanese cartoons, they might have realized that Chief Bogo was taking a classic Gendo Impali pose from Neon Genesis EvangeLion.

"Sir," Carmelita saluted the taller mammal before she made her way over to and climbed up into one of the two chairs settled in front of his desk, going over the details about what happened and how he was arrested... the people, the territory covered, the damages, the officers that arrived on the scene to take the perp into custody, anything she could to be as thorough as possible.

Using his pen to write down note after note on a stationary pad for later input, the massively muscled herbivore nodded his head in appreciation of the woman's efforts. "It's just too bad you didn't get his partner, Beebo as well," Bogo muttered. No one really knew of that was Mr. Pig's real name or an alias, but either way it made it that much harder to locate and arrest the mammal. Still, this was a good start of things. "I don't say this often but I believe you deserve a bit of praise good on capturing him, even though you were _supposed_ to be relaxing and not technically on the clock," he said that last part rather pointedly.

Noticing the look the man gave her, the Interpol office fought down the flush of embarrassment at the accurate accusation. "I couldn't help it!" The Hispanic vulpine chimed. "What was I supposed to do? Ignore when some uncaring imbécil robs someone right in front of me? I had to immediately give chase! He was fleeing the scene with another mammal's personal property and money! What kind of police officer would I have been if I hadn't chased him down?"

"An officer that wouldn't have made herself a lot of enemies in one fell swoop," Bogo answered in a seriousness manner. "That was why it was a shame Beebo Pig wasn't there for you to also take down... if you were going to catch hell then you could have least gone all the way for it."

Now the blue-haired vixen was rather confused. "...Que?" She asked, not sure where the large prey mammal was going with this. Seeing the man firmly gazing down at her, the petite–in comparison–predatory canid questioned, "What are you talking about?"

His hands still held together, the bovidae tapped his hooved digits together as he inhaled through his nose deeply... before breathing out slowly with his mouth. "I'd like to think the fine, hard-working men and women of the Zootopia Police Department would be more professional... but..." he frowned. "Wouldn't _you_ be upset that something you worked so hard on was done ever so easily by someone else?"

That reply made the vixen blink her eyes once more. She had _thought_ those had been tired looks she was receiving from her fellow policemen as she made her way to Bogo's office but now that the little Latina lady actually thought about it? "The other officers are upset with me." It wasn't a question

He nodded his head. "Indeed. They probably would have been ready to tar and feather you if you hadn't included Clawhauser in the news report and propped him up as best you could. You still gave the ZPD some credit, showing you could be a team-player."

Carmelita just stared up at the man as she sat in the large chair before his desk, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. "...They're upset because I did my job?"

"Better than they did," Bogo clarified. He wasn't upset with Officer Fox. On the contrary, this might be good. There was a chance the officers could go overboard, but he'd clamp down on that fast if it started up. "On top of it, you're new here. I mean, you're a veteran officer with Interpol, so even if you're not from here, even you would know how senior officers feel about someone who outdoes them on the first day of the job."

Understanding now dawning upon her, the Hispanic red fox couldn't help but grimace. She knew from experience that she didn't like it–particularly when corrupt cops like Neyla got even further by screwing others over–and it was a fact she couldn't ignore.

"On the other paw, some mammals might think you didn't see Mr. Teddy commit the theft and it was Clawhauser that did while you took off while he called it in?" He suggested, letting her know just how deep a pile of shit she had gotten herself in with the department. Different mammals would take different slights from a situation.

The woman stood up in the chair, reading to defend her position. "But I..." Carmelita trailed off at the surprisingly stern look on Bogo's face. Taking a deep breath, she calmly told the much larger mammal, "I wanted to make sure the criminal didn't get away and didn't trust myself to hand over the keys in such a situation, so I took off after him."

A small guttural noise of acceptance sounded from the herbivore's throat. "I thought so," Idriis said as he nodded his head in understanding. He hated these kinds of games as well, but the horned herbivore knew that he had to play them to keep things civil among the department. "I'll make sure to pass the information along. After all, if Clawhauser spotted him first and you took off because you... I don't know... _dropped the keys_ , it's easier to stomach for them," he suggested rather pointedly to the woman.

Realizing that the muscular mammal was going to manipulate the story a little to keep the peace, the vixen sat back down when he gestured for her to. She couldn't help but smirk a little at the police chief. "You're pretty good at this." Barkley had no time for office politics. He merely gave orders and had his subordinates follow them.

"What, you mean this?" The ebony-skinned bovidae scoffed. "This is a rather simple thing to handle. You should see the stuff I have to put up with when I have to stand tall and hold it together whenever I have to preside over a funeral for fallen officers. And even then, at least the families are more appreciative. You should see what happens when I'm in front of the City Council, giving statement in court or–Gouda forbid–forced to deal with Internal Affairs!"

Carmelita grimaced at that last one. Internal Affairs was probably the most hated branch of all the police forces. Outsiders saw them as inept fools that couldn't get rid of bad cops and regular officers hated them because it meant someone was a snitch. The Hispanic vulpine held no sympathy for policemen that abused their authority but having Internal Affairs breathing down one's neck for any reason was _**neve**_ r fun!

"Still, I felt you deserved be warned," the horned herbivore continued in a far more serious manner. "I had specifically told you to take the day to yourself and get acquainted... and instead, you ended up taking down a criminal who was on his way to becoming rather notorious. The other officers might be insulted because they were outdone by someone they will see as a newbie and I can give them a reminder that you are an experienced veteran with Interpol and that this is far from your first rodeo..." he sighed. "But I can't do much about the City Council."

That caught the vulpine woman's attention. "The City Council?" She frowned as the police chief gave a firm nod of his head in response. "What about them?" The Latina vixen asked, becoming rather curious as to why the man who bring up Zootopia's board of legislation.

Meeting the smaller predator's inquisitive gaze, the large bovidae looked deep into her chocolate-eyed gaze with his own deep brown orbs. "Judging by what you've gone through since you arrived and your personal background as an experienced Inspector of Interpol, I believe you can venture an educated guess as to how the political system here is set up... such as how some criminals aren't supposed to be brought in until just before big elections?"

The canid cop's eyes widened to the point of practically bulging out of her skull. "...It's an election year for Zootopia." She said, more a statement than a question.

Nodding his head, the bovine bruiser pushed his seat back and stood up. "They were purposely allowing low-rung criminals like Rock and Beebo to cause a ruckus... someone visible without being real trouble–to them, that is. So when the elections are held in eight months, they could have gone, 'Look who I caught through so much hard work: re-elect me'!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, the canid policewoman didn't want to accept what the Chief Bogo was telling her. "You mean they were..." she trailed off, unable to bring herself to say it.

Nodding his head solemnly, Chief Idriis M'Bogo came around his desk and reached down, giving his subordinate officer a gentle pet on the back. "You feel that pat? That is where you have a big target plastered now."

Rolling her eyes, Officer Fox couldn't help but groan out. Politics sucked giant hairy bear balls! "So now what happens?" She asked, wanting some idea of what sort of backlash was coming her way she could at least try to prepare herself for it.

The mammal mulled over it for a moment, not one to give her false hope but do figure something that he could reasonably manage for her. "The best I can do for the time is have you work street-level assignments for a while, maybe parking meters if you're unlucky." Bogo shook his head at the saddened look on the woman's face. He just knew the council, as bad as they were. They were likely already plotting something humiliating, disgusting, and possibly dangerous. "Just don't be surprised if the Council or the Mayor sends me something before tomorrow about where to assign you." Personally, the horned prey mammal wanted to see what Carmelita was capable of; he was tempted to have her work as a beat cop around some of the more high crime parts of town such as the Meadowlands to test her mettle.

Such would have likely been much safer than whatever those politicians had in mind.

Merely coming to an understanding and reluctant acceptance at what was to befall her, Carmelita could only curse under her breath, "Coja mi vida." She shook her head in annoyance, trying to cope with what she'd been told. "For people that are trying to push this half-assed Mammal Inclusion Initiative, they seem dead-set on _**NOT**_ helping this city."

"That's just how politics are. It's a dirty thing." Idriis would have really vented but he refrained. Considering that they had eyes and ears everywhere–let alone the fact he was currently missing a door–the African Buffalo didn't want anything to get back to them. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't give the vixen some advice. "Just remember, this: don't listen to what I say in the Bullpen tomorrow. You follow your assignments as they're **written** in the case files..." a small chuckle escaped his throat. "I am getting older and need glasses. So if I read it wrong... well, you'll know where you need to truly be when I hand you the paperwork." Granted it was a bit of self-depreciation but such would likely help her out if the damned council had him do to her what he was certain they would.

He had only been the chief of the ZPD for four years now but he had played the game for well over a decade at this point. He could predict some of their maneuvers before they made them, as they had depended on such under-pawed tactics for so long. And like them, he too learned the value of plausible deniability long since.

Again, the blue-haired vixen nodded. It wouldn't be the first time she was given an official order and then disregarded it for one reason or another. "Is that all, Chief Bogo?"

"For now, just try to not do stuff like that again," he said in all seriousness, even as the man's muzzle split into a grim smile. "Off the record though? I will admit that on one paw, I can't help but feel a measure of respect for you. While you defied an unofficial order... you did it because you were merely doing what you were trained to do. You saw a crime and acted." His eyes then narrowed. "However, on the other paw? If you were a rookie and pulled this shit, I would be chewing your head off as if _**I**_ were the predator right now because you acted so _damned recklessly_! It's only because you _are_ a trained and experienced veteran officer that I'll merely say: don't you _**DARE**_ pull any crazy stunts like that without back-up **again**!"

"I had Officer Clawhauser!" The vixen chirruped in her defense.

Crossing his arms over his impressive chest, the African buffalo just glared down at his subordinate officer, his expression practically asking the woman, 'Really'?

Not one to be easily cowed, Carmelita frowned back. "Just because I'm not the hero this city wants, doesn't mean I can't be the hero this city needs!"

The glare intensified.

"...Damn it, that always worked for Sly when he said it to Barkley," the vixen grumbled irritably.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Standing in front of an open refrigerator in the kitchen of his long-time friend and secondary mother Mrs. Honey Badger's home, Nick slowly but surely unloaded the bag of groceries he had on the floor to his right into the cooling unit. He removed the numerous zip lock-bagged deli items one after another, loading them into the fridge as he whistled a theme that some people would have recognized as the tune to the videogame, 'Tetris'. Being an older model of fridge, the somewhat-modern convenience was both larger AND smaller. It was made of denser materials than present day models–possibly solid enough that it could have possibly helped someone survive a nuclear blast–but the actual interior was surprisingly small due to how thick said walls were and how large the motor in the base was so the vulpine was forced to try and make the most of what little storage area was actually available.

Standing on a counter top with another of the grocery bags, the red fox's partner in street hustling and goffering was slowly filling one of the wall cabinets, sticking in can after can of soup and/or vegetables into the wooden structure. As he grabbed another of the aluminum cans, Finnick paused for a moment and stared at the label of the Lampbell soup can one more time before letting off a small, depressed sigh. "She does realize we could have easily saved at least sixty-bucks if we just got the no-name brands, right?"

The petite predator's partner merely shrugged at his inquiry as he found a spot for a carton of one dozen eggs. "Why are you concerned? It's not either of our money, is it?" The red fox responded with an inquiry of his own, just wanting his pal to drop this line of conversation already. This was the fourth time today the fennec had brought this up!

However, the smaller of the two canid con-mammals wasn't having it. "That's beside the point! We could have pocketed the rest for ourselves if we just purchased the generic stuff!" He said firmly, positively annoyed that the chance to scam had to be tossed to the wayside.

Pausing in his packing of the fridge, Nick gave turned his head towards his compatriot in conning and gave him a flat look. "Do you really think she wouldn't know that something was up when she got less money back than she should have?"

Finnick scoffed at that. He knew Carmelita was smart as she was a fox after all! However, it was obvious she had never gone shopping in Zootopia–how was she to know the economy? Plus it's not like he was going to tell her. "What? She'll look at the sales receipt?"

"I imagine she'll go shopping sometime or complain to Benji about the price of generic stuff," the male red fox stated, causing the tiny terror to twitch. "And then what? Get fired from a legit business deal and have to go back to hustling when there's a cop out there we both know personally? A cop that will then likely hold a grudge against us and go out of her way to make our lives a living hell for the next six months while she's here?"

Considering the scenario for a moment, the fennec's shoulders came to sag in defeat. "...Fine," the desert fox grumbled irritably. "Still seems like a waste. That sixty bucks could have easily gone towards more groceries or a chance to eat out," he said in all seriousness. As he turned back to the cabinetry to store away more canned goods, he couldn't help but complain, "For being a fox, she sure sucks at actually saving her cash."

Shrugging his shoulders–as he couldn't really defend Officer Fox in that regard–the taller of the two predatory mammals pointed out, "Well you have to remember that she isn't from Zootopia." Sticking right paw into the bag and coming up empty, the vulpine tilted his head down and saw that indeed, there was nothing left in it. So turning about and making his way to the kitchen table with the rest of the shopping bags, he continued to say, "She likely hasn't ever had to face the same problems and discrimination we do until she actually stepped foot here. Heck, I have to give her credit: if I lived elsewhere, I would have told my boss to stuff this position where the sun doesn't shine and gone back home!"

"She's lucky she only has to be here for a few months," the petite predator agreed as he climbed up into said cabinet to begin filling in one of the higher shelves. "I mean, she's obviously in for a rough time of it as it is. I don't think her fellow cops are going to appreciate being shown up by a vixen on the international news..."

The crimson-pelted con-mammal couldn't help but smirk at that thought. "Serves 'em right, I think! We both know that if you can't compete that you'll get beaten out by better competition." It was why Weaselton despised them so much. They could concoct a far more successful hustle than he ever could. About the only thing the twitchy mustelidae had for a stable con was his petty bootlegging operation and that **always** drew the attention of the cops.

"Maybe for regular life," the desert fox agreed. "But you and I both know politics makes all competition worthless. It becomes less about how good you are and more who you know," Finnick grumbled irritably, remembering someone–while not a friend–was at least of a decent sort that constantly got passed over for promotions at his work for years because less deserving mammals had sucked up to the bosses to get the promotions ahead of him.

Of course, said business no longer existed these days.

 _But then again, most Sheep-run businesses ended up crapping out around the beginning of the new millennium_ , he desert mammal thought with a bit of devious glee. Being able to be part of the herd and finding a niche in it didn't mean a thing if one couldn't compete with **OTHER** businesses in the same field. Take that, Bradllama's! Wallaby-Mart's was the way of the future for general purpose schlock houses with variety and fair prices!

Considering that for a moment as he carefully climbed down the shelves of the cabinet, the large-eared vulpine couldn't help but comment, "Maybe next time we should try shopping at the Big Blue; if we have to get her brand names, we could at least save ten bucks."

Slowly setting another brown paper bag down before Honey's fridge, the male red fox raised his right eyebrow at the suggestion. "What? You meant Wallaby-Mart's?" Seeing his pal nod his head, Nick couldn't help but snort. "Oh please! That place is _**WAY**_ overrated! About the only good one left in the city is in Little Rodentia because they have to compete with a Targoat's and neither of us can fit inside!" The carnivore paused for a moment before continuing. "And yes, I am surprisingly including you in that assessment," he pointed out, purposely poking fun at his partner's vertically-challenged status of being... well... a fennec!

The tiny vulpine twitched irritably at the wisecrack about his height. "I swear to God, Wilde! I will... kick... you..." he trailed off as furniture in the house started to shake. "What the?" A small drinking glass started rattling on the counter until it hit the edge and fell over, shattering on the ground. "Is this an—" the desert fox was cut off as the rumbling got louder and the tremors greater! So much so that Finnick felt his whole body shaking and bouncing just as the glass had. "EARTHQUAKE!" He screamed as he felt like a tiny rubber ball.

"QUICK! Get down and cover your head!" Nick yelled as he jumped away from the fridge and ran like crazy towards an open doorway. The last thing he needed was to be squished by a refrigerator or have the ceiling come crashing down on him.

The trembling continued for a bit, the poor fennec landed on and began skittering about atop the floor, unable to get a footing as the trembling rocked the older building. This was incredibly odd! Sure, they were North of the San Andreas Fault-line but Zootopia was considerably outside the range of the Ring of Fire. The city wasn't geographically situated to where it could be affected by earthquakes of **THIS** level!

However, before the taller of the two could ponder what was causing this, the quake stopped just as soon as it began. Nick blinked his eyes once, twice before surveying the kitchen. A few broken knickknacks and a partner that looked like he just want a few rounds with a beaver and got tail-slapped like a bitch. "Hey, Finnick?" He called out to the stunned vulpine. "Are you okay?"

Laying on the ground for a few moments in complete and utter silence, the petite predator slowly began sat up. Once he was in an upright position, the fennec finally nodded his head. "Yeah, I will be," he admitted as he too began to look about the kitchen. "Holy cock-a-doodle- **doo**! That was some quake. I can't remember one ever hitting Zooto—"

 ***HONK*!**

 ***HONK*!**

Both vulpine men blinked their eyes as the sound of what had to be one of the loudest truck horns they ever heard right outside the house. Curiosity getting the better of them–after all, they weren't cats and had no need to worry about being killed–the taller of the two awaited his partner to get back on his feet before they made their way through the house and to the front door, opening it to see what the ruckus was.

Both predators felt as if their jaws were going to tear free from their skulls at how far they felt their lower set of teeth drop. It was a Humvee, in particular one sized for much larger mammals. Unlike what one could expect of civilian models, this sucker was decked out in a heavily armor exterior that was pained with a shiny coat of black and white zebra-striped paint and two tusk-like tow-hooks on the front.

After a few seconds of silence from the two canid men, the driver's side window began to slowly roll down. When it had, a very familiar vixen stuck her head out. "Hola!" She called out in greeting to her fellow foxes. "What do you think? Is this the sort of vehicle Honey would want in her front yard?" She asked with a faux-innocent tone even as the smile that was plastered across her muzzle was one of absolute pure-vulpine mischievousness.

His ears plastered back against his skull in shock, Nick reached down to touch the bottom of his chin almost reflexively; idly wondering if he were part snake with the way his jaw felt as though it had fallen down past his waist. Finally, he pushed it back up to close his mouth, allowing his brain a chance to reboot so he could comprehend what was going on. Eventually, he just looked up at the Hispanic beauty in the driver's seat and carefully surmised. "That... um... that is to say... that earthquake was you!?" He finally blurted out in a stuttering fashion.

The Hispanic vixen behind the wheel blinked her lovely brown eyes in surprise at that comment. "Earthquake?" Carmelita asked as she leaned back into the vehicle and rolled up the window. In a moment, the rev of the engine died down and the door opened, the female red fox jumping out of the vehicle. Closing the door behind her, the woman's gaze turned towards her fellow red fox. "I didn't feel an earthquake, so I suppose that might have been the weight and raw power of the vehicle just thrumming through the area around it..." she offered as a possible suggestion before reaching her hand out and patting the front bumper. "Besides that, please tell me Nicholas... what do you think of my new ride?"

His own train of thought finally getting back on track, the Zerdan couldn't help but inquire, "Are you going to tell us the ZPD actually gave that to you!?" The tone of his baritone voice conveyed just how in awe of the machine of mass destruction he was. He obviously hadn't been in love with a machine like this since he first bought the Ford Lobos.

Nodding her head in confirmation of the fennec's inquiry, the policewoman turned about to face the pair of canids fully as she replied, "Well... yes! I mean, that was part of the deal I made with Mrs. Badger. She wanted a big advertisement of a police presence at her home and, to be frank? It doesn't get much bigger than this!" She chimed as she used her right hand to thumb over her shoulder and back at the squad car that was practically a tank for mammals their size.

The petit predator continued to look upon the vehicle longingly for a moment more before he managed to find his voice again. "...You **do** have the keys, right?" Finnick tilted his head as he tried to gaze upon it from another angle. "Also, does it have extra security?" He wouldn't put it past a few mammals to try and steal it. Heck, if he wasn't so... _vertically challenged_... he would think about doing that himself!

Nodding her head once more, Carmelita brought her right hand down to her side and gently patted her pants pocket. "Of course I have the keys right here. As for extra security, it does have a GPS tracker in it–just like all the other squad cards do. So if someone _IS_ stupid enough to try and jack my ride, it will be possible to track them down. But enough of that," she stated abruptly, wanting to change the subject. "Would either of you gentlemen care to use your phones to take a picture of me with the vehicle? Since Honey won't come out of her bunker, I want to at least show her that I am living up to my end of the bargain."

It was the taller of the pair that managed to respond first. "Uh... sure! Sure thing," the Hawaiian shirt-clad canid replied to his fellow red fox as he withdrew his cell phone from his pants pocket. Using his thumb to flip through options and apps, he soon had the device set to the camera mode. "All right now. When you're ready, say cheese!"

Straightening out her posture, the Latina vixen saluted and offered a bright smile. "Cheese!" As the flash went off, the vulpine woman was quick to relax again. "Gracias again, Nicholas..." she leaned back, using the vehicle's front bumper to help support her posture. "Dios bueno, you guys wouldn't believe what I went through for my first day with the ZPD..."

Putting his phone away, the male vulpine chuckled and gave a small shake of his noggin in response to that statement. "Oh, I believe we have an idea..." Nick couldn't help but chirruped as Finnick nodded his head so energetically that it caused his massive ears to wobble, wave and overall flop about as if he were some stuffed animal.

Studying the two for a moment with a scrutinizing gaze, the woman couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at their actions. "Let me guess," she began slowly. "It's already been all over the news?" When the pair of predators nodded their heads, the vixen could only shrug her shoulders. She should have known word would travel fast. "Well, that does make it easier." She laughed softly before realization hit her. "Oh!" she snapped her fingers. "Did you get all the stuff I wanted you to purchase at the grocery store?"

"Yes!" Both of her fellow mammals chirruped in sync before the taller of the pair continued, "In fact, we saw everything on the store's TV while we were shopping." The male red fox stepped up to the even taller police officer and smiled. "And there is something I need to tell you."

Blinking her eyes, the navy blue-haired vixen replied, "What is it, Nicholas?" She then gasped out in surprise, her eyes going wide as the man threw himself at and gave her a very tight if not outright grateful hug. "...Nick?" The woman whispered his name, feeling a little awkward at the show of affection.

"Thank you," the male vulpine said in all seriousness. "That guy screwed Finnick and me over two months ago. Him and his partner busted up one of our business outlets before the work day was over and took most of our earnings. We were never able to get any help from the police but then here you are! You come along and on your first day you toss his ass behind bars." He tightened his grip as he told her, "Thank you."

Rolling his eyes, Finnick couldn't help but snort at his partner's actions. That went Wilde again, being all wishy-washy and over-emotional. No wonder Vanilla had wanted to use Nick as a subject for her mid-term thesis paper back when she and her sisters were working their way through college! He was a friggin' mess! With more emotional baggage than the John F. Kenneighdy International in New York!

Looking left and right a few times, the female officer couldn't help but wonder how long the man was going to hang onto her. "Ah... um, no problem..." she said slowly, blinking her eyes as he seemed to just hug her tighter in response. Blushing a bit more, the woman sighed in growing annoyance. "You can let go any time now," the Latina vulpine muttered, knowing that while her fellow red fox was just doing it out of gratitude, that didn't make the current situation any less... embarrassing for her.

For his part, the male vulpine didn't seem to hear her as he continued to praise, "Thank you... thank you! I've never had anyone go to bat for me like that... you make me want to believe that—"

"Please let go!" Carmelita finally barked out as she came to the end of her wits, interrupting her fellow vulpine and snapping him out of his stupor of compliments and praise he was showering upon her.

Blinking his eyes a few times, a small flush managed to make its way through the male fox's facial fur. "Er... right..." he murmured as he released his hold of the taller vixen. Taking a step back to quickly give her a bit of personal space, the man straightened out his posture and used his paws to wipe down his shirt to smoothen out the wrinkles he out in it. "Sorry about that, Carm. I don't know what came over me just then."

"Probably the fact you haven't felt the touch of a woman in... what? Three years at this point?" Finnick suggested, before chuckling at the glare his somewhat-friend directed his way. "What? It's true. You're just lucky the triplets stay in touch with us because of me!"

Needless to say, such a comment caught the Latina vixen's attention. "What's this? You don't have a girlfriend?" The navy blue-tressed vulpine blinked her eyes in surprise, shocked that he didn't have a significant other. Wilde reminded her considerably of Cooper, and the mischievous raccoon had been QUITE the charmer back in his thieving days. Someone like Nick should have had women lining up around the block! "I would have thought you'd have at least a couple women interested in you."

A chuckle sounded from the smaller vulpine's throat. "Funny you should mention that, Miss Fox. Wilde here~ _MURPHLE_!?"

"Worked very hard to make sure we tracked down everything on your list!" The taller of the two male foxes chirruped nervously, interjecting an answer for the desert fox as he placed his hand over his partner's muzzle in an effort to silence him. "Yep! It was quite the trek through the grocery store but we found everything you wante~ _ **ED**_!?" He yelped as he tried to pull his paw free as the fennec firmly bit down on it.

Staring at the pair as they fought amongst themselves, Carmelita couldn't help but shake her head in exasperation. "If you don't have a girlfriend, you don't need to be embarrassed by it. Some mammals just don't date like others. So, ignore what they do." She waved him off. "How about we instead go inside and relax, huh?" After the day she had, Officer Fox wanted to have a chance to take off her boots and kick her feet up.

"Yeah..." Finnick trailed off before narrowing his eyes at his partner. Even as he glared at the male red fox, he remembered to tell the vixen, "By the way, you're cleaning the mess up, Miss Fox."

The woman went wide-eyed, taken aback by the smaller vulpine's statement. Taking a moment to calm herself, the vixen gazed back into the tinier mammal's blazing orange eyes with her own chocolate gaze. "...What mess?" She asked, confusion clearly evident in her voice.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of the petite predator's muzzle. "Well, come inside and see for yourself..." Finnick said pointedly as he motioned towards the house.

Waving his hand to get over the throbbing pain the fennec's teeth had inflicted upon it, the taller of the pair was quick to offer, "If you want, I can start working on dinner while you clean the kitchen." Since her vehicle was the cause of the catastrophe, he wouldn't really fault Finnick's logic that she be responsible for cleaning it up...

...Unless she was willing to pay them more! Than you could just call him Nicholas 'Mr. Clean' Wilde!

Again, the vixen blinked her eyes in shock. "Clean the kitchen?" She squawked out in surprise. A thought coming to her, the woman crossed her arms over her chest and pointedly told them, "I may be Hispanic but I'm **not** Mexican! What do I look like, some day-laborer!?"

Both men wisely kept their mouths shut.

Twitching irritably as their silence was more damning than actual words the vixen stormed past the pair and went inside the house. When she came upon the kitchen, Carmelita stopped in her tracks as she saw the broken glass shards everywhere, along with a few other disturbed articles of appliances in the area. Now understanding what the fennec was referring to, the police officer could only meekly mutter out, "Oh. That's what you meant..."

Coming to stand beside her, the male red fox nodded his head in agreement. "On the plus side..." Nick chirruped as he leaned in. "My offer to cook for you still stands. And I promise, the meal won't include one iota of ramen!"

Turning her head to the right to look at her fellow red fox, the Hispanic vixen raised an eyebrow high enough that it disappeared into her hairline. "Ramen? What are you, a college student?"

" **I told you**!" Finnick practically roared in a victorious fashion.

Twitching slightly in irritation at being further called out on his eating habits, the Hawaiian shirted hustler could only murmur, "Everyone's a critic..."

Placing her hands on her hips, the female vulpine sighed. "I suppose it could have been worse," she admitted softly. Giving him a small smile, the Latina beauty added, "You could have offered to make me tacos..."

"Or French fries!" Finnick remarked, grinning deviously in return to the looks the two taller predators gave him. "What? You came from France, didn't you?" He chirruped. "If you don't want the stereotypical stuff, what do you suggest for a good European dish?"

"Only European food I actually know how to serve would be classic British biscuits and tea," Carmelita admitted, chalking that one up to having learned the skill from Chief Barkley during her time spent serving under him as his protégé. "Well, that and Belgian waffles."

Silence reigned over the kitchen for a moment as the three considered that admission from the police officer. "...Now I want waffles." All three of them muttered at the same time, almost in perfect syn. If there was one thing everyone liked, it was waffles.

After a moment of considering that little happenstance, it was the male red fox that voiced what everyone was thinking. "...So... waffles it is?" He asked of the pair with him. "Zerdan and I did pick up a few boxes from the frozen food section as per your request."

Nodding her head, Carmelita thoroughly agreed, "Waffles." They might not have been Sly's homemade confectionary perfection but they would do. After the day she had, she could use a little comfort food.

Tomorrow though? She'd likely need a whole box.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Hello again, my readers! Thank you for your patience and allowing me the time needed to write! I hope you find this chapter enjoyable; I tried to do something a bit different. I find one can't just keep throwing the audience into a serious situation over and over, so this chapter was meant as a bit of a breather, to explore more facets of Zootopia without needing to solve a crime or face outright specism.

I also decided to make this chapter a bit heavier on the Nick-side of things, considering the poor fox didn't get any page-time in the previous chapter... and in doing so, I was able to come up with an origin for of one of the movie's best scams: the 'father-and-son' duo out for a Jumbo Pop! And all it takes is spreading the word about a case of pachydermitis. 

As for feedback, I thank you my readers for your opinions and praise. In particular, there is one I feel that needs addressing. Well, chronocrosser I can understand that The Weaver's Pack Street Tales stories and comics are awesome and I would be interested in throwing a character in for a background scene or two but I am unsure as to how to get ahold of the man. With Nicholaswilde's concepts and characters of Zistopia, I got to talk to him and get permission. So he knew this would eventually be coming.

Ah well. It's probably for the best. If I brought Pack Street into this, I would be _**SORELY**_ tempted to follow-through on The Weaver's idea of Mrs. Wilde. And no one is going to want me to do **that**! _Especially_ Nick!

A shout-out to XKhaosXKyuubiX also needs to be given. Thank you for the fanfic recommendation on TvTropes. That is most kindly of you. I'm glad I was able to entertain you enough to warrant it and I hope to maintain that level of writing.

Just a reminder! The Zootopia News Network's New England Meet-Up Party is this coming Saturday, August 27th. I will definitely be there and look forward to meeting the likes of Redman404, author of the rather delightful, "Hopps and Robbers" fanfiction and Andy Lagopuss, who put together and moderates the ZNN website, sharing more Zootopia goodness among the fans.

If anyone attends, you'll find me wearing a custom Fox Point t-shirt.

Next update should be September 3rd if all goes well. Thank you all for your time and remember, as Gazelle told us: Try Everything!


	10. Sultry Vixen

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 10: Sultry Vixen

Dressed in her baby blue bathrobe, it was a freshly showered Carmelita Montoya Fox that stood before the 1955 GE electric stove, gently stirring a metal spatula across a cast-iron skillet, making sure the broken eggs were stirred into an even mix in the large black frying pan. It was a pearl white range-style double stove with the larger oven on the right while a smaller oven was on the left. Ironically, all four burners were lined up over the left despite it being the smaller space, leaving the majority of the topside a blanket of white. The dials set in the faux-wood style control panel that rose up from the back of the unit was definitely a throwback to the era the appliance had been made, and the vixen couldn't help but smirk a bit as she thought of how such an old clunker had lasted so long and likely would last longer than anything–let alone just stoves–made today.

 _They just don't make them like this anymore_ , the Latina red fox thought as she used her free hand to reach over to her left and grasp a measuring cup that contained a few peppers she had diced up and mixed with spiced tofu crumbles before starting on the eggs. She then brought the glass cooking instrument over and tilted it, allowing half the contents to fall into the egg mixture before continuing to stir contents in the skillet. She then raised the spatula up and allowed the beaten egg mixture to simmer for a bit before she started to slide her spatula under and flipped the whole mass over to cook the topside.

Staring down at the eggs that began to solidify into a pancake-like stability, the vixen nodded her head in satisfaction and reached over for one of the slices of cheese she had left out in the open; placed atop the plastic bag the deli had stacked them inside of for purchase. While she had appreciated the breakfast that the two local foxes had brought her yesterday, Carmelita had to get back into a groove of having to fend for herself in some way or another...and if that meant taking the time to make a healthy breakfast, then so be it.

Peeling the slice of cheese off from the rest of the stack, the vixen couldn't help but drag her gaze over the rest of the kitchen. The stove had been one thing, but the other appliances matched the time-frame of the dual oven's origin as well. For example, the fridge had definitely been a much older model, the sort that was like a mini-fort with how thick its steel walls were... and the limited storage space despite the overall size of the damn thing. To the right of the massive–yet sparse storage–cooler it was the counter with an incredibly wide yet extremely shallow sink with a rather tall cane-style faucet that was adorned with white porcelain cold and hot water taps on either side of its base. Also in the kitchen was the pearl white and chrome-finished washing machine with its front load glass port window-door with a matching top-load dryer; something which most modern iterations of the appliances reversed. Shoot, to the right of the washer and dryer set, there was even a cabinet in the wall that, when opened, would reveal a long, wood-and-cloth ironing board.

Indeed, it the kitchen was filled with a beautiful matched set of furniture and modern conveniences that made one feel like they had stepped back into 1950's America... not because someone had spent thousands of dollars to recreate the look, oh no. The Hispanic vulpine was fairly certain the reason for such was because the stuff was all original and had not been moved since it was first installed.

 _Still, I have to hand it to Wilde. He managed to keep it clean for Honey as best he could_ , the Latina vulpine surmised. In fact, if she were one-hundred percent honest with herself, that had been a slight factor as to why she wanted to do some real cooking in the place. She was hopeful the aroma that would come off from actually preparing food would eventually overpower the faint, ingrained smell of bleach...

" **But not with burnt food**!" The vixen yelped as she could see the eggs starting to smoke. She quickly flipped the eggs over again and saw the side that had been facing down had gotten a bit of char to it. "...Looks like I'll be eating that one," Officer Fox murmured as she quickly threw the slice of Swiss cheese on it before reaching to get a second one. Hopefully the excess dairy product would melt over it and help hide the burnt flavor.

She really did need the calories. Even if the pair of male vulpine had kept the place clean for the shut-in badger, Carmelita still had to use a lot of elbow grease to remove all the dust bunnies–was that specist?–and gathered grime.

Thanks to that and some borrowed fans–and prodigious use of a few dozen breathing masks–the female red fox was able to both walk around barefoot and not sneeze her head off. The drains had all received enough bleach and drain cleaner to remove hair clogs–at least, she hoped it was hair–that were likely as old as the appliances.

Officer Fox was hopeful she wouldn't be living there long enough to discover the state of the building's wiring.

 _At least no one stole the plumbing_ , the Hispanic vixen thought, as she finished allowing the eggs to cook through on the other side before folding it over and moving resulting omelet on one of the two empty plates atop a tray. "Probably because Honey lives here," the canid cop murmured to herself as she reached for the open carton the counter and retrieved a trio of eggs, ready to begin making the badger's breakfast. She had wanted to do something nice for her erstwhile landlady and a meal seemed like the ticket. So cracking the eggs one after the other and tossing the now empty shells into a nearby trash-can, the woman with a pelt a mix of red, brown, and orange then reached for the spatula once more and began stirring them, breaking the yolks and evenly distributing the contents among the protein mixture.

As she worked, such reminded Carmelita about what the worst part of not having a modern sink was: no garbage disposal. She needed to remind herself to take out the trash when it was time. _Well, that or pay Nick to do it_ , she thought in all seriousness. The Latina vixen doubted there was a garbage pick-up in this part of the city and she needed to find some way to dispose of the trash when it got to that point. She just hoped her fellow red fox didn't call her a specist for wanting him to... God knew that's what Sly would do to try and get out of it whenever she reminded him it was his turn to take the trash out.

Oh Sly... if only he could have been around to see what REAL specism was like. He could have made sure a lot of these idiots saw the error of their ways in the span of a night...

Looking out the nearby window, and gazing about the downturned neighborhood, Officer Fox made a mental note to also ask Nick just where he was planning to dump the trash. It wouldn't do for someone out to get her to find it dumped, 'inappropriately' and fine the hell out of her! Again... something that Cooper would have moved heaven and earth to get even with for the vixen he loved.

Shaking her head to dislodge the memories and thoughts of her old beau, Carmelita returned her focus to the meal she was preparing. It would be unsocial if not outright bad manners if the meal she was making for her landlady turned out worse than what she had made for herself.

Well, as long as she liked her female landlord. The canid woman knew a few mammals whose food that she'd like to slip things into.

Totally non-lethal stuff, of course...

A small smile graced the vixen's muzzle. "Good times," she sighed wistfully, remembering how she had busted a fridge thief at her old office in the Paris Branch of Interpol with a mere heavy application of stool softening agent to some brownies.

...

...What? She was a policewoman, true but she was also a fox. There were some instincts that were completely ingrained in her species. As a vixen, she was the result of four-billion years of evolutionary success and she was going to act like it! Fox Power over thieving jerk walruses that would dare to eat her homemade brownies without asking!

" **Damn it, Carm**!" She cursed herself as she saw the eggs starting to let off smoke again. "Four-billion years of evolutionary success and yet I can't keep track of _four minutes_!" The Latina vixen griped as she flipped the omelet over in the pan once more... an omelet the vulpine woman realized she never got to add the ingredients to.

"...Looks like this one is my breakfast then," the policewoman grumbled in acceptance as she remembered why she very rarely cooked using anything that didn't require a microwave. Grasping the measuring cup, the female red fox poured the contents out, intent to make it a stuffed omelet out of it. And yes, that included having to pick up a few more slices of tangy Swiss cheese to melt over the mixed peppers and fake sausage crumbles to hopefully keep everything together so she could eat it neatly.

With the hard part of the meal done and nothing else likely to burn–unless the ancient toaster on the opposite countertop shot flame when she pressed down on the button–Carmelita worked to gather the rest of the meal together. While not her first introduction to Honey, it wouldn't hurt to be nice to and make a good impression with the woman that was letting her live there.

And frankly, if Honey went the rest of the way around the bend, she didn't want her coming out of the bomb shelter like a horror movie.

"…I just hope the cleaning chemicals didn't flood down there," the vulpine muttered quietly to herself. She was a cop so killing her landlord would definitely not be in her career plans.

So with a pair of slightly burnt omelets, a couple of bananas, silverware sets, and two small cartons or orange juice–because there was no way in hell she was going to try and bring drinking glasses down a long ladder–on a single tray, Carmelita gently placed the large serving dish down on the floor before sitting down on the linoleum ground herself, shivering a little as she could feel the cold against her butt even through the cloth of the bathrobe. So sliding herself along the smooth surface until she ended up with her legs underneath the large sink cabinet, the vixen proved her flexibility by rolling over and sliding herself slowly into the hole, feet feeling blindly before they finally took purchase atop a rung of the ladder.

With stability gained, the Latina red fox reached out for the tray with her right hand and slid it closer to her. She then carefully lifted up with her right hand before sliding her left underneath, the palm firmly pressed against the bottom of the tray to lift it off the ground and stabilize the two dishes atop it. Then, using her right hand and feet, the vixen made her way down into the depths of the tunnel that lead into the earth to Honey's true home.

As she got half-way down the ladder, the vulpine woman's ears twitched as she could hear the sounds of tinkering going around. To be more precise, the sounds of metal hitting metal before a deep sizzle and sparking followed. Curious, the policewoman climbed down at a quicker pace, all the while carefully balancing the tray on her left hand. As the Hispanic vixen got further down, she noticed that there was a considerably stronger source of light than the last time she had been down there and wondered if the badger had set up some more lighting fixtures.

Needless to say, when the bathrobe-adorned vulpine beauty got near the bottom and saw the reason for such illumination was the older female predator with her face hidden behind a welder's mask standing at a work-bench and using a blowtorch to fuse two sheets of metal in the start of a cylindrical pattern, the vixen could admit to feeling a tad nervous. Seeing other items atop the metal table-top that included thick rubber hoses, bean bags and canisters that looked like old school gas grenades, the vulpine couldn't help but wonder if she should just drop the dish and climb up the ladder with all her might and ride off into the city to find a cheap motel to stay at for the rest of her stay in Zootopia.

Unfortunately, that would leave a bad impression.

Of course, those grenades going off from a spark or a touch of the butane flame and in turn setting off other items the Hispanic vulpine had noticed scattered around in the bunker would also leave a bad impression... one about a hundred or so feet deep and just as wide.

Mama and Papi Fox taught her manners... but they also taught her a sense of self-preservation... particularly how to **not** to end up on Darwin's List of Award Winners.

 _Now what, though?_ She now found herself mentally asking. As things stood now, the vixen didn't want to startle the badger and thus likely end her life!

Taking a deep breath, Carmelita's only real choice was to wait for a lull in the use of the blowtorch and try to get her attention in a calm manner. So coming to the bottom of the ladder, the vixen took hold of the tray in both hands and stepped towards the busy badger; the woman hard at work on... well, whatever she was building. From the look of it, the ting appeared to be some sort of pipe... but what would the tubes be for? Was she working on plumbing?

Officer Fox sure hoped so. She hadn't see anything akin to a toilet down here and if what Nick said was true about the woman living down here for nearly three decades... well, she was surprised the badger didn't smell a lot worse.

The navy blue-tressed vixen just hoped the opening to get the female mustelidae's attention would come before she blew them to kingdom come!

Fortunately, it would appear a higher calling had indeed heard the canid woman's internal prayers as the torch sputtered out before the flame dissipated into nothing. The thickly muscled mammal shook the tool a few times, hearing nothing but the pings of a ball inside the metal fuel casing. " _Bloody hell_ ," came the slightly muffled curse of the badger before she used her other hand to pull her welding mask back atop her head, revealing her features. "Always runs out when I'm in the middle of an important project!"

Taking this as her cue, Carmelita loudly chirruped in as sweet a voice as she could, "Good morning, Honey! I made breakfast!" She then held the tray out towards the burly female carnivore that had to put a pause to her current doomsday prepping. "Shall we share a meal?" She queried before smiling, showing off her pearly white teeth.

Honey turned to look at the younger woman and smiled. It was always nice to have friends come on down to visit–especially if they fell into two categories. Friends that Nick cleared and the friends that Nick cleared that she hoped to pair up with him so she could get to hear the pitter-patter of pseudo-grandkits running around the bunker.

And one thing was for darn certain: the female fox had some **great** birthing hips. "Of course, dear," she said, motioning to one table that could be used for a meal with only a few minor things moved to the side. "I'll be just a moment," she replied, shutting down the welding rig and preparing to remove her safety equipment.

Nodding, Carmelita moved towards the offered table, seeing what could pass for two seats, and after setting the food down, began to clear off what she could so they could both see each other, as well as be able to eat their meals without fear of contracting something from jagged metal that could likely cut them. Yes, it was rather impressive if not disconcerting how the female badger had turned a Cold War Era bunker into a place a Doomsday prepper–or Bentley–would have called home. Still, there were so many questions she had... and admittedly was afraid to ask. Not that the older woman intimidated her, far from it! The female red fox had worked for Chief Barkley for years and had gotten long used to the rough personalities members the species seemed to have.

Nope, instead Carmelita was more worried that the moment she asked, she would interrupt the honey badger at a critical moment, startling her, and blowing them all to kingdom come!

Soon, the older mammal finished cleaning up her workspace, putting away her current project before pulling a towel out of an errand drawer to rub her hands. That said towel was covered in all kinds of black grease stains meant that it was rather useless to use for basic hygiene purposes but that didn't seem to bother the stocky predator at all. Tossing the piece of cloth aside into a seemingly random pile of scrap on the floor, the badger pulled up an overturned bucket and sat down on it, her hands coming down on the table space at either side of the plate the vixen had fixed up for her.

Honey craned her head forward, practically putting her face into the meal. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the sent a few times before quickly snapping her jaws, taking the omelet into her mouth all at once. Raising her head, she began to chew noisily, smacking her lips as her cheek puffed out. Again and again, she noisily ground down the main part of the breakfast before swallowing it in one go.

Her chocolate eyes wide at the sight of what had occurred before her, the Hispanic vulpine beauty just stared in surprise. "...Did you—"

"Bur~ **RAAAAAAAP**!" The older woman belched out, interrupting the younger female carnivore sitting across from her.

Now the vixen's pupils dilated to pin-pricks, despite needing to be as wide as possible to taken in all the light it could for her natural night vision to work in the depths of the dim underground shelter. "...Did you even _taste it_?" She finally managed to ask in utter bewilderment.

Smiling wide and showing off her–surprisingly–pearly white teeth, the badger nodded her head. "Of course," Honey said with a happy little tone. She then exhaled softly, calming herself. "It is just..." she began, only to trail off.

Raising a navy blue eyebrow, the vixen looked at the badger across from her with a curious gaze. "Just what?" She chirruped, wondering what was bothering the woman.

Blushing enough that it managed to show through her facial fur, Honey sighed once again. "You know, Nick tries his best... but he's not the best of cooks. So when the eggs and toast came out smelling and tasting like they were supposed to and not outright charcoal..." she murmured. Not that she would ever want to talk badly about Wilde but even she could admit that his culinary skills fell terribly short of his biological mother's.

"Ah," Carmelita replied as she nodded her head in understanding. Between her father, her four brothers, and the assorted male–and one female during college–animals that wanted to be her paramour, the vixen had experienced more than her fair share of bad attempts at making an edible meal. "Just so you know, while I'm living here, I'll be doing the cooking and—GAWK!" She garbled out as the badger leapt over the table and tackled her in a very tight hug.

"Oh you are just a **doll**!" Honey chimed as she happily embraced the vixen in her strong arms. "First you went and got such a big and powerful police cruiser like I ask, then you got groceries for the house, and now you're even going to cook for me!? Oh please, _please_ tell me you intend to stay forever!" She cooed out. "You and Nicky could be so happy together, I just know it!"

That statement made the vulpine flush with embarrassment. While she hadn't been expecting praise for merely passable cooking, she seemed to be getting it and **more**! Well that, and the fact the badger was more than hinting at the idea of her and Mr. Wilde hooking up. "Er... that's all right, Mrs. Badger. I'm not looking for a boyfriend right now. I have one back home... sort of."

Needless to say, that admittance made the honey badger blink her eyes in shock. The girl had a boyfriend!? Oh, that was going to break Little Nicky's heart when he found out... unless...

Loosing up the grip of her hug, the stocky female mustelid was able to look her fellow predator in the eyes. "Sort of? What do you mean by, 'sort of' dearie?" She asked as she took another step back, but kept her hands on the vixen's shoulders so she had the female fox at an arm's length. "You either date or you do not, there is no 'sort of'..." she tilted her head, looking at the Hispanic beauty with an inquisitive gaze. "Unless you're the sort of mammal that's into open relationships..." and considering Miss Fox's species, such was a possibility.

The blush that had managed to show through the female red fox's facial fur got that much brighter at the woman's implications. "No! Nothing like that!" the younger fox replied quickly. "It's just... it is just complicated," she finished with a heavy sigh.

Nodding her head, Honey patted her on her shoulders. She had to play this very carefully–enough to move the woman towards Nick, but not enough where the 'sort of' beau might show up and take the great food-giver away. "Can you explain it to me, dearie? We have plenty of time, after all... unless you have to go to work soon?"

Sighing, Carmelita nodded as she sat down. Yes, she did have work in a few hours but perhaps it would be best to get it off her chest, and who better if not Honey... a woman who couldn't report it to her boss and get her dismissed. So taking a deep breath, the vulpine settled herself in her chair–an empty wooden crate that had the word, 'oranges' written on one of the planks–the vixen looked at older mammal in the eye, telling her, "My boyfriend back home was a Sargent at Interpol. I was his superior officer and had been for three years..."

Although she was keeping a solid poker face, Honey was mentally rolling her eyes. Just great. Office romances. Obviously, Miss Fox was into the 'good boys' and poor Nicky, as much as he wanted to be a Junior Ranger Scout back in the day, wasn't someone the honey badger could admit to as being on the up-and-up. Not that he was a criminal let alone a bad boy, heaven's no! He just... had a tendency to skirt the law as much as was legally possible. Still it was enough questionability on his part that would make it difficult for her precious Nicky to worm his way into the possible grandbaby mama's heart.

Sighing, the vixen finally continued. "...The previous five years he had been a master thief that I had been assigned to chasing around this great big world."

 _JACKPOT!_ The badger mentally cried. Not only had she been dating a bad boy, she had dated said bad boy longer than the good boy. Add to that the fact she had been dating a junior officer meant she knew how to take charge and maybe she'd be able to make something respectable out of Nicky! "And how did those relationships go, if I may ask?"

The Interpol agent frowned. "When Sly was working as a thief, the darned Ringtail was driving me loco! Granted, I can look back on it and smile now that I realize just how much he'd been helping me along the way but he was really confusing the heck out of me with all the mixed signals. A tease here, a bit of flirting there, a..." she blushed. "Well... a stolen kiss now and then." She shook her head. "Would you believe our first date was a helicopter ride? Not that either of us was piloting, oh no. I had finally handcuffed him and was escorting him directly to Interpol via air-traffic. We talked, laughed, shared stories, a bit of history of ourselves... and then just talked about life in general. Books, music, art... I found out then that we really had a lot in common despite being on either side of the law... heck, I even showed him the bottle of champagne I'd been saving for the celebration of his arrest."

The vixen's lips pursed in irritation. "And then it turned out the helicopter was on a jury-rigged autopilot and we had been flying around for nearly two hours... unfortunately in turning my attention away from the crook, Cooper slipped his cuffs, _**stole**_ my champagne bottle and parachuted **AWAY**!"

Honey nodded her head in understanding. Yes, the woman definitely was looking for a connection... and that could be Nick. But first things first! The female badger was going to have to make sure that young rascal knew what **NOT** to do with the lady fox. "And what happened with the later one, the one you were in charge of?"

Carmelita sighed. "To be blunt, they were the same person... Sargent Sylvester 'Sly' Cooper. It was simple... I was able to reform him for the most part after a while."

" **SQUEE**!"

The vulpine woman jumped up atop her seat, startled by the shriek of delight the woman released. Blinking her eyes once, twice, the Latina red fox could only inquire, "Did... did you just _squeal_?" The near-disbelief was clearly evident in her voice.

Blushing slightly, the female badger replied, "Sorry... I just love a good story," she replied with a sweet and gentle tone of voice, trying to cover for her excitement. Oh yes, this was good. Miss Fox was someone who knew how to take a bad boy and shape them up into an upstanding, respectable gentlemammmal! If anyone could fix up her little Nicky, it would be this woman! Thirteenth time had to be the charm, right? "Anyway so you had managed to make the crook into a cop... that seems like a tall order."

Nodding her head, Officer Fox replied, "It was! Everyone back at HQ was ready to throw the book at him and clap the cuffs on him. It took so, _**so**_ much effort on my part to talk my boss down from doing just that. But I owed it to Sly! I mean he..." she frowned. "He took a bullet for me." Granted, it was more like a blast of energy but that hadn't been the stunning blast of a little shock pistol. It had been a full on laser blast meant to **kill**!

The muscular mustelidae considered that. It was impressive that this Sly person was willing to lay his life on the line to protect someone he loved. That was both incredibly sweet and made her worry about the level of competition her little Wilde now had to deal with. "So what happened?" She queried, wanting to know more.

"It started small at first. He was great at spotting ways thieves could get around security, how they performed crimes..." the vixen's lips pulled back into a frown. "But the core of his addiction–the need to steal, the challenge, the thrill–it was always there, and it was growing worse as time moved on."

After a moment, Honey nodded her head once more in understanding, the older woman clearly seeing where this was going... and it was going great for Nick! The male red fox didn't have a need to grift or do naughty things. Nicholas P. Wilde was just... unmotivated.

Check one for her little Nicky!

"Eventually, it came to a head two months ago... a black market artifact dealer had opened a museum across town in clear view of our apartment," Carmelita began to explain. "One Cyrille Le Paradox. That he was a criminal was an unknown to us at the time... although I tell you, if Sly knew that he would have cracked the moment that place opened its doors. When you get down to the brass tacks, the problem was he couldn't keep up the 'good guy' act anymore... his blood was screaming at him to commit a crime, and his old gang were more than willing to give him a reason to do just that."

The vixen lowered her head, sighing. "I should have known it was going happen. I tried to reform Cooper because, when he took that blast meant for me, he had gotten injured and **bad**. When he recovered, he claimed he had amnesia! Told me that he didn't know who he was. I helped him rebuild a life and..." she frowned. "He'd been lying the entire time..." she shook her head. "No. We had been lying to each other. I wanted to believe he was a fully changed mammal and he in turn wanted to be what I knew he could be. Maybe if I had just confronted him before all this happened, I could have saved him... instead..." she clenched her fists atop the table at either side of her breakfast. "I don't know if he's dead or lost..." granted, she wanted to add, 'in time' but with all the conspiracy theory posters the woman had plastered all over the walls of the bunker, the canid cop didn't want to be dragged into a real life X-Files.

Sniffling a little, Honey brought a hand up, wiping at her teary eyes. It was a great love story, and part of her wanted to cheer them on that they would make it.

A larger part of her, however, realized this also meant there was no ex to come back and break up her plans.

"I understand, dearie," the female honey badger said sweetly, a sympathetic tone of understanding evident in her voice. "And now, what do you plan to do?" After all, the female predator wanted to know if there was a way she could make a certain male fox part of said plans.

Carmelita sighed. "Honestly, not much. I was spending the past two months fighting street crime in Paris while launching my own investigation, searching for any traces of him. No one found Sly's body and... I just have to hold onto hope, you know?" She shrugged her shoulders in an almost helpless fashion. "Apparently, such started to worry my boss and he decided to volunteer me for tribute to this Mammal Inclusion Initiative of Zootopia's, effectively making me their first vulpine officer... and boy did the shit hit the fan, both figuratively and literally."

The Interpol Inspector really felt bad for the ZPD's Maintenance due to them having to clean that mess up. But she wasn't the one who kept her species a secret or the idiot who decided to not check into the facts further before making assumptions. Really, Officer Fox felt she was the one who had been wronged the most in all of this!

Honey found herself in a hard spot–and not because the cushioning of the pail she was currently using as chair had been burned off about two decades ago. Obviously, Carmelita was hurting. She still held out hope her ex would be recovered, could still be able to be salvaged. In the end, that path and her own plans might lead Nick to become them 'rebound heat' which in the end would only leave poor Wilde more angsty around women.

But, damn it! The older badger wanted to keep eating this food, get Nick moved towards the right side of the law, and have grandkits come visit her! So, she needed to bring her A-Game! The muscular female predator needed to help the female fatale fox get over her last relationship, move past any rebound activity, hook her up with Nicholas, and make certain their relationship could survive the ex ever being found and coming back!

That meant she needed to know about the competition. "So tell me, dearie. Just what kind of fox was this Sargent Cooper?"

Taken aback by the woman's assumption, the vulpine woman then politely explained, "Actually, he was a raccoon." She blinked her eyes at the rather somber look that came over the older woman's face. "...What?"

"...Nothing," Honey finally replied after a moment. It wasn't like the badger had anything against interspecies relationships–just so long as both partners were either carnivores or herbivores–nor anything against raccoons–dumpster divers that they were–in particular. It was simply a surprise that a lovely lady like Carmelita would set her bar so low! Did the woman have no sense of self-respect!?

Honestly, if her little Nicky couldn't land this beauty who it appeared really had no major standards that couldn't be surpassed with the most minimal of effort, then she really needed to have a talk with him about coming out of the den!

Not sure what to make of that, the vixen went on to explain, "Well, to continue, Sly is... as his name suggests, was a rather sly individual. Suave, charming, a quick-witted thinker... flexible, nimble-fingered... managed to become quite successful despite the stereotypes surrounding his species." She began to smile wistfully. "He was such a terrible flirt to be certain but he couldn't help but be affectionate with me."

Nodding her head in a rather sage fashion, the honey badger was quick to point out, "So basically, a lot like Nick."

"Yes a lot like..." the vulpine trailed off, her eyes going wide as she realized where the older woman was going with this. Oh dear, Carmelita needed to get out of there, **ASAP**! "OH GEE! WOULD YOU JUST LOOK AT THE TIME!?" The female red fox shouted as she brought her right arm up and gazed down at her wrist. "I HAVE TO GET TO WORK!"

"...Your watch is on your other arm, dearie," Honey pointed out, only to chuckle as the canid woman turned about and ran away, climbing up the ladder as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. Shaking her head good-naturedly, the badger didn't take offense to the Latina cutie's retreat. After all, she had at least half a year to grind down the girl's resistances...

And looking down at the plate that had contained the Hispanic girl's abandoned breakfast, the badger couldn't help but smirk as she realized she had a half year of good eating ahead of her as well! "Oh yes, Francine would love this girl..." she murmured as she leaned forward in her seat to grasp the plate that had the vixen's omelet. Waste not, want not after all...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As she roamed down the mostly clear roads in her police cruiser and put distance between her and the badger who was apparently hell-bent on playing matchmaker, Carmelita had to admit, she **was** growing to love this vehicle... although a big part of that appreciation that was probably because she wasn't responsible for the cost of refueling it thanks the gas card Chief Bogo gave her. _Less than twenty-four hours and I've already had to fill it up_ _ **five times**_ _!_ She thought with slight irritation. The Humvee's custom twelve-cylinder engine guzzled gas worse than an Indianapolis Speedway racecar! From her mental math, it was probably doing somewhere between eight-to-ten miles a gallon... and that sucker had a twenty gallon tank to hold the fuel! Yet even with that much in her car at every refuel, the tour the female red fox took around the four main Districts of Zootopia was quick to rise in cost.

At this rate, she would definitely need to depend on Nick and Finnick for rides on her days off. She couldn't bring herself to justify using the monstrous squad car when she wasn't on duty. At least when she was on the job, she was making the city a safer place and could come to terms with the growing expense the police car was having on the Police Department's budget. If she wasn't, well then the vulpine would have just been a selfish jerk if she did! No, it was better to pay someone to chauffer her around, even if their ride was admittedly a run-down antique van. For Christ's sake, the fennec's Ford was nearly forty-five-years-old and it **still** got better gas mileage than her modern armored auto!

 _Not to mention I do have Renato's information if the two are too busy to help_ , the Hispanic vixen thought, reminding herself that she did have more options outside of the pair of vulpine men. She hadn't heard from Mr. Manchas since she arrived but she could chalk that up to the fact that he didn't have her contact information. _Maybe I should give him a call just to keep in touch_ , the woman mentally surmised as she came to a stop at a red light, feeling the thrum of the engine vibrate through her as it idled at the four-way crossing.

As she waited at the stoplight, the vixen gently drummed her fingers along the steering wheel. Eyes darted back and forth, taking in the sight of Savanna Central. Now that she was closer to the Zootopia Police Station and into the city center, billboards–both physical media traditional and video screens–were becoming prevalent once more. Plastered the sides of buildings or on their own raised structures, these towering monoliths of mammal commercialism that both added a bit of brightness to the city and helped maintain a façade of normalcy. After everything she had experienced so far, such caused the Latina red fox to view the over-the-top advertisements as nothing more than a veneer, a veil that only slightly hid what was truly going on in this city from those who only took a quick glance.

 _Zootopia definitely needs more in the way of urban renewal than it does renting out advertising space if they want to help make a difference_ , the Hispanic fox mentally surmised as she continued to stare up at the traffic-lights, the bottom bulb still a solid red. _Sure it gives them more in the way of quick and easy revenue but unless they can pick up on actually restoring more of the city, they won't offer those who live here better opportunities_. Not to mention by not doing so, the city was denying itself more tax-paying businesses. Animals didn't want to set up a proper shop in a place they didn't feel comfortable in.

Not that the city-state was hurting for businesses, heavens no! From what Officer Fox saw, the Savanna Central, Sahara Square, and Tundratown Districts were thriving with a good deal of privately-owned businesses... even the Rainforest District appeared to have a monopoly on the shipping and transport business with aircraft and boats. However, the analytic part of her mind which helped make her an excellent detective, reminded the woman that the general upkeep for these places must have been terribly expensive. Even if they had an in with Saddle Arabia, the costs to maintain a blazing desert, an arctic environment, and a thriving rainforest must had been staggering! City Hall should have been doing everything they could to take in any stream of revenue available so why hadn't they?

 _The more I see of this city, the more questions I'm left with_ , Carmelita thought as her foot pressed down on the gas as the traffic-light turned green; another quirk about being of the vulpine breed that most didn't know. While the majority of mammals knew about a fox's keen night vision that made up for the breed's otherwise jack-of-all-trades slight sense enhancements, the vulpine body could react in sync with the body's brain signals on automatic on the same level as everyone else could blink or breath, no active thinking required. Foxes could have their minds on one thing or holding conversations with some other mammal while their bodies worked on automatic in perfect flow with their active surroundings. As long as something was within the peripheral of their surroundings, the vulpine body would acknowledge it even if they didn't in the forefront of their mind.

As she continued to travel to work through the city, the Latina vixen was surprised at the lack of civilian presence. Yes, it was early morning on a weekday but this _**was**_ a city. The sidewalks and other areas should have been filled with all kinds of animals. Sure, there were mammals around but the majority of the action at this time in the morning was her fellow drivers and her filling the streets as they commuted.

Looking to her left as a vehicle shot past her in the passing lane, the female red fox was genuinely surprised to see a quartet of polar bears seated through a gun-metal gray Cadillac Escalade with chrome finish. All were dressed up in nice suits... thick material too, considering density of the cotton sleeves on their coats. The vulpine policewoman idly wondered if they were travelling to or from Tundratown. Either way, it supported her assumption that even with the differentiation between Districts, everyone moved back and forth for their daily routines and as long as they weren't going past the speed limit she wasn't about to bother them.

After a bit more driving, the Hispanic red fox came upon the city center, the area which revolved around the Pride Rock Public Park that was settled smack dab in the middle of Savanna Central. It was here one would come across all the major government facilities of Zootopia. Being careful of the largest congregation of pedestrian traffic she'd seen so far as a number of mammals were making use of the public recreational area, Officer Fox was finally reach her Destination: Precinct One of the Zootopia Police Department. Ignoring the opening air active duty parking lot to the right of the main entrance, the vixen drove her police cruiser all the way around to the back and right up to the security gate at the entrance of the municipal building's parking garage. The gate attendant–a portly hippo–took one look and then a second when he realized just who was behind the wheel. Although startled a bit, he nodded his head in recognition of who she was and pressed the button at the console inside his station, causing the yellow and black lined bar to rise.

Driving past the security station and up the driver's lane, the vixen's eyes gazed side to side as she looked at all the cars already at rest inside of the ZPD's multi-story car park. She frowned as she drove around, realizing she was going to have to go up to the second floor. Apparently most of the police were at the station before seven. _Makes sense, really. If it's anything like Interpol, there's the changeover between the third and first shifts and then there's the morning report. They'll have two nearly full shifts of officers here at once_.

So without further ado, the Humvee that was adorned with the colors of the police department came around the bend and up the ramp, heading to the second floor. As she ascended to the next level, the navy-tressed red fox's chocolate eyes gazed back and forth once again, keeping a lookout for an open space. A smile crossed her muzzle as she could see one not too far from her on the left. "Bingo," she cheered as she was still getting a space technically close to the entrance. She would merely need to walk down a floor.

Grasping the gear shaft of the vehicle's automatic transmission, Carmelita set the gear into Reverse before carefully turning the wheel and backing up in the parking space. With the police cruiser nicely lined up between the white lines of the space, the canid cop moved the shaft into the Parking gear to make sure it was stable before her right hand reached for key in the ignition. She gave the piece of metal a turn in its slot, effectively cutting off the motor and silencing its audible rumble of restrained horsepower. With the engine no longer revved up, the female red fox unbuckled her seatbelt before reaching out with her left hand. Opening the driver's side door, the Latina beauty was careful slide off her seat before descending from the open doorframe of the police car. Landing safely on both feet from a height that was considerable for someone her side. The vixen turned about and pressed her hands against the door, pushing it closed.

Taking a moment to slide her hands over the front of her uniform to smooth out the bottom of the tuck shirt and the pants, the vixen then grasped her belt on either side of her hips with both hands and adjusted it. Feeling as though everything was in order, Officer Fox made her way down the ramp, remaining off to the right to stay out of the way of any oncoming traffic. With no vehicles actively moving about in the area, it was a quick jaunt for the canid cop to get to the entrance; the set of glass doors leading into the station from the garage.

Opening one of the two metal-framed doors, the vixen entered the back hallway. Her triangular ears went straight up, twitching back and forth as she listened to the sounds that carried on the air. Numerous voices talking into one white noise, the ringing phones, the marching of feet... it was definitely a busy atmosphere, and she was eager to take part in it. She hadn't been able to do much at the station yesterday and she wanted to prove that she knew how to be a team player. She might not have preferred working with others but if what Chief Bogo said was true, she had to or else she was going to face the wrath of angry officers.

Making her way into the main foyer of the Zootopia Police Department, Carmelita gazed left and right at the spectacle that was to behold. It was definitely a lot less crowded than when she had arrived for the first time yesterday but it was still a loud and busy place with a flurry of activity. The entrance hall had a number of officers moving about as they travelled to and fro, some policemammals carrying stacks of paperwork, others that were travelling between departments, a number of mammals walking besides citizens–both to bring them into the station and others releasing them to the public–and a few officers who stood off to the sides, talking with one another whether it was consequential to their work or just mere gossiping. The Latina vulpine wouldn't have blamed some of the officers if it were the latter for them; it was likely those who were ready to clock out that were taking it easy.

Walking out into the lobby, the Hispanic vixen took note of how it began to quiet down and she knew without a doubt the reason was her. The female red fox could feel as her fellow officers of the law were dropping whatever they were doing to look at her; some of which she caught doing such within her field of vision! While such didn't intimidate the canid cop–she had faced down far larger threats working for Interpol–the fact was such as a touch unnerving. Whether it were specism because she was a fox in uniform or simple professional rivalry from the huge splash she made on the news yesterday, Carmelita merely hoped the other policemammals wouldn't let it get in the way of their work. They all had a job to do and being angry with her was going to interfere with everyone if they decided to act upon their feelings of insecurity.

 _Only thing I'm insecure about is the layout of the ZPD_ , the female red fox admitted to herself as she got further into the lobby, ignoring the stares and cross looks she got along the way. The Latina vixen may have gotten a good look at the city herself to have gotten a basic idea for the layout of the primary Districts but Precinct One was still something of a mystery... outside of making her way back and forth to Chief Bogo's Office. It was why she was making her way directly to the front desk. The vulpine knew one mammal she could trust for assistance.

As she was entering from the back of the building, Carmelita had to make her way around to the front of the reception desk. She smiled as she saw it was indeed Officer Benjamin Clawhauser manning the dispatch station... although the portly spotted feline seemed to be off in his own little world at the moment. He had a bright smile on his face–and a proverbial song in his heart–as he devoured his breakfast, quickly delving a spoon into a large bowl before bringing it up to his mouth over and over again. Her eyes darting over to the bright yellow, orange, and red box of, 'Frosted Lucky Chomps' cereal, the vixen was willing to hazard a guess that such was what the cheetah was busy consuming. "Hello? Officer Clawhauser?" She called out the man's name, not wanting to startle him.

"Mmm~mmmm~MMMM!" Was the response the Hispanic vixen got as the portly officer noisily chewed his breakfast; the sounds of crunching and munching quite audible amongst all the cooing he made. The feline was so into the children's cereal that he effectively tuned out the rest of the world as to solely focus on all the sweetness that danced along his rough feline taste-buds. Such made the world seem that much sweeter to the cheerful cheetah.

Realizing that she was getting nowhere fast, Carmelita decided that maybe she needed to startle him, if only a little. So taking a deep breath, the woman braced herself to let out a loud shout. "Officer Benjamin Clawhauser!" The orange-pelted canid barked out forcefully, hoping that would get the larger predator's attention. She didn't want to be late to morning report and assignment because someone had a sweet-tooth that went straight to their brain.

With that shout, the chubby cheetah's eyes snapped wide open, breaking him from the inner-peace he had been rounded cheeks to extend even further, the spotted feline carefully swallowed a few times, freeing his mouth of that serving of breakfast. Placing the bowl gently down on the desktop, the portly policeman's eyes darted back and forth before he caught sight of a familiar set of navy blue eyebrows and tresses which had a pair of triangular orange ears–the left adorned with a gold hoop earring–peeking through the main of cyan locks that were plainly visible over the edge of the counter. Smiling wide as the realization of who was there came to him Benjamin leaned forward onto the counter so he could look over the edge at his fellow officer. "Well hello there, Sunshine!" He greeted in a rather friendly fashion. "It's nice to see you again this morning, Carm—Officer Fox!" He quickly corrected himself as he saw the woman frown when he began to address her on a first name basis. "Sorry, I forgot you prefer to keep things professional when you're on the clock," he apologized to her.

Despite herself, the canid cop couldn't help but smile a little as she shook her head good-naturedly at the man's legitimate apology. The vixen could tell he was trying so hard to maintain a level of professionalism with her, and she couldn't fault him for having trouble. They'd only known each other for a few days at this point so she was more than willing to cut him some slack. "That's all right, Officer Clawhauser," the female red fox said, reassuring the chubby cheetah that he'd done nothing wrong. "I was just hoping for a little help."

That request made the overweight feline blink his eyes. "A little help?" He chirruped in surprise, parroting what she said in response. His brown eyes began blinking rapidly as his mind processed that. "Gee... I don't know..." he admittedly a little ashamedly, as if not offering assistance was a crime. "I ended up really pushing myself yesterday and some of the other guys kept saying I smelled from how much I sweat so I kind of wanted to stick to a desk job today. No offense to you, Officer Fox."

"None taken," she replied calmly although she was a little upset to hear some of the other officers were harassing the poor spotted wildcat. "I wasn't going to ask you to partner with me today," the Latina vulpine began softly, taking note of the look of disappointment on his face as she said that. So to spare _his_ feelings, she quickly explained, "As I said before, you're great at helping to direct officers on Dispatch and I wouldn't want to take you away from one of your best qualities." She smiled in relief as that got the feline smiling again. "As for myself, I need to find out what the Chief wants of me today so I was wondering where I have go for assignment. Could you tell me that?" She looked up at him with a hopeful gaze.

His smile widening more as he realized he could help, the feline nodded his head in a rather energetic fashion. "Sure! You're going to want to head over to the Bullpen for that," he chirruped in response. The portly police officer then raised his left hand up beside his head and thumbed over to his left. "Just go straight on through the double-doors past the public rest rooms and elevators. You'll find it on the left; can't miss it."

Nodding her heard in understanding, the vixen replied, "Gracias, Officer Clawhauser. Good luck manning the reception desk today!" She said, making certain a rather upbeat tone was prevalent to her voice as she brought her right hand up to the side of her head and gave him a two-fingered salute. She was pleased to see that it made him smile that much more–he really was rather easy to get along with. The vulpine then turned about to her right and went the way the cheetah had told her, heading towards the double-doors. Ignoring the uniformed polar bear that was standing there waiting for one of the two sets of elevator doors to reach the ground floor, the predator went up to and pressed her hands against the metal door on the right at the end of that enclosed enclave area, opening it into the hallway that lay beyond.

Stepping out into the carpeted hallway, the vixen moved to the left, getting out of the way of the large steel door as it swung back with all the weight of the dense metal it was made of. As it shut firmly behind the canid cop with an audible clank, the vixen looked to the left and smiled as she saw a mostly wooden door with metal handle and base along with a window near that top that was adorned with word, 'BULLPEN' above the stenciled image of the ZPD badge that was prominently centered on the glass with the phrase, 'ZOOTOPIA'S FINEST' written below it. "He wasn't kidding when he said you can't miss it," the Interpol agent-turned-Zootopia officer murmured to herself as she moved over to the door. As it was slightly ajar, she didn't have to worry about reaching up to grasp the door handle... but as she got close, it also allowed her to pick up on the muted noise coming from within.

Pushing the door open, Carmelita was hit with the ruckus full-blast. The Bullpen reminded the woman more of a high school lunch-room than a serious work environment thanks to all the macho posturing, rowdiness, and the overall rising levels of noise and testosterone. Various police officers were already seated at the different tables that were lined up in some resemblance of an orderly fashion all while chatting it up, gossiping, boasting, partaking in one-upmanship, and overall socialization among their peers. The Hispanic vixen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at all of this but calmly made her way into the room, her chocolate eyes gazing back and forth for an open seat.

Fortunately, because the officers were so into themselves and their coworkers, they didn't notice that she was even there. The female red fox merely walked down the central aisle between the two lines of numerous metal tables; her ears pressed back against her skill to help drown out the noisiness of her fellow law-mammals. She ended up going all the way to the front of the Bullpen, where a pulpit adorned with a large replica of the ZPD badge was positioned central to the room. Behind the podium and hanging on the wall to the right was a map of Zootopia that showed all the Districts and even extended far enough as to include its dependent counties of Bunnyburrow, Cowslip, and Deerbrook. To the left of it and embedded firmly in the wall was chalkboard that had numerous names written on it; a clock hanging just above writing surface.

Off to the right of the map and standing near another entrance to the room was a uniformed hippopotamus police officer. The semi-aquatic mammal stood there with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, the officer clearly marking off who was present. Carmelita chose to ignore the frown he gave her before marking her off as present while she did her best to climb into the immediate seat to her right, being it was the only one that was currently vacant. The vulpine woman had to climb a little but she easily got up into the plastic seat on metal legs, despite it being sized for mammals considerably larger than her. She didn't mind though, the Latina lady taking solace in the face that she could at least see over the table without problem.

However in getting herself seated, the commotion drew the attention of the officer to her right. Turning his gaze from his cup of coffee, the uniformed rhinoceros looked over to his left... and was confused for a moment as he saw nothing in his immediate field of vision. It was when his brown eyes gazed down that he became startled at the sight of the vixen, the massive mammal twitching slightly in obvious irritation.

Taking notice of the man's reaction, Carmelita raised one of her navy blue eyebrows. The Hispanic vulpine's gaze travelled over his frame before settling on the golden name tag over his right pectoral. Her chocolate eyes rising up to meet the man's own brown orbs as they stared down at her, the vixen calmly asked, "Is there something you wish to share with me, Officer McHorn?" It was a polite yet firm town she addressed him with, showing that she was willing to be civil as long as he was.

The rhino continued to meet the vixen's gaze for a moment; the little standoff now garnering the attention of both the tigress and arctic wolf that had been sitting to the right of the large horned herbivore. Finally, he closed his eyes and let off a small sigh, the rumble reverberating through his chest as he did so. "That was a nice collar you managed yesterday."

That caught the woman's attention. "...Pardon?" She asked, rather confused. It took a moment for her to realize he wasn't speaking of an actual collar but the arrest made. "Oh! Thank you, Officer McHorn," the canid cop said gratefully as she offered the larger mammal a smile. "Well I couldn't have done it without you," she told him in all seriousness, now recognizing him as one of the two officers that had arrived in the armored van to take Mr. Teddy into custody. "Thank you."

The officer's nostrils flared as he let off a little snort. He didn't smile back but he did nod his head in acknowledgement to the woman's gratitude before turning his attention back to his coffee. The large herbivore was quick to bring the white porcelain mug up to his lips with his right hand and began sipping the steaming contents, savoring the flavor and the caffeine.

Watching as the larger mammal drank from his cup, the Latina vixen relaxed a little. _Well, so far so good_ , She thought with a bit of relief as she turned about in her chair and faced the front of the room once more, awaiting the arrival of the commanding officer... quite possibly Chief Bogo himself if what he told her yesterday panned out. Still, she was glad the cape buffalo took such an active role in the lives of his officers. As much as she had adored learning under Barkley, the Badger did slow down quite a bit once he became the Commissioner-in-Chief of Interpol... and the years going by didn't do anything to help him in that matter either.

Entwining her fingers together as she clasped her hands, the vixen placed her paws down on her lap and waited. Her ears were still down to try and drown out the noise of her fellow officers but she could still make out all the noise going on around here. Indeed, it was taking every ounce of the female red fox's willpower to not just burst out in frustration at the Zootopia police force and admonish them for their improper conduct. Barkley would have tanned their hides for being so undisciplined if she or any of the Interpol agents acted like this! Sure, she could understand if there was a little conversation and even a few raised voices here and there, but all the mammals here were outright roughhousing like a bunch of feral beasts!

Fortunately, the wait for first shift to begin didn't last much longer. Looking at the watch in his left wrist, the hippopotamus nodded his head and put his pen into his shirt pocket before he slid the clipboard underneath his armpit. Straightening up and sticking his chest out as best he could despite the considerable gut he had to contend with, the rotund mammal took on a commanding presence as he opened his mouth wide to declare, "ATTE~EEEEN- **HUT**!"

And just like that, all the police officers pushed their chairs back and stood, slamming their fists down on the table before them in a rhythmic fashion all while chanting a rough, guttural noise over and over again. Not sure what was going on, the vixen decided that since they were being called to attention, she could at least stand with the others; the Latina beauty remaining atop her seat so she could see what was going on around her.

Within mere seconds of the chanting having started, the door that was settled to the right of the map at the front of the room swung open. The familiar form of Chief Bogo entered the room slowly, needing to maneuver his body within a doorframe that was too small for him; ducking under and leaning in sideways. Straightening himself up, the horned herbivore calmly strutted towards the podium; a number of red folders filled with papers were firmly gripped within the hooved digits of his right hand. Raising his right arm and dropping them atop the central stand, the African buffalo placed both his mitts on the desktop of the pulpit before gazing out at those gathered in the room–his eyes settling on Carmelita for a moment before he raised his head to look out over the room in general. "All right, all right!" He barked out loud enough to be heard over the repetitive cheer. "Everyone, **sit**!"

And just like that, the chanting and desk pounding stopped, the numerous police officers settling themselves back into their chairs. Seeing that everyone began to calm down as soon as Chief Bogo commanded it of them, Carmelita carefully settled herself back down in her own seat, all the while looking up at the authoritarian presence of the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department in complete and utter awe. He might not have been Barkley but the cape buffalo could instill the same sense of order and demand for respect the badger could. Heck, she was certain even James would have had trouble getting this rowdy a group to calm down.

Once it was quiet enough, the ebony-skinned bovidae nodded his head in appeasement before he began to address the morning shift. "Now then, I've got four items on the docket today. First, I want to congratulate all of you for your efforts yesterday to maintain order despite the chaos that had been Mayor Lionheart's press conference. I know that it wasn't easy for any of you here but you all managed to keep damages to Precinct One to a minimum. Well done."

There was murmuring amongst the officers, pleased to get some modicum of praise from the man. Getting any bit of recognition for a job well done from Chief Bogo was often more impossible than trying to ice skate uphill!

"Second," the African buffalo continued as the uniformed women of the ZPD started to settle down once more. "The damages that have been caused are being handled by city hall's budget so don't fret over your paychecks; no one's hours are being cut. Coincidentally, this also ties into the Mammal Inclusion Initiative," he stated, using such as to segue into the real point. "There will be some remodeling going on over the course of the next few weeks if not months. Maintenance of private contracts are going to need be adding things such as access ramps, stairs, and doors as well take care of the repairs needed. The department itself will be also ordering equipment sized for far smaller mammals than we are all used to seeing here so if any of you have anything you might need, do full out the proper requisition forms and file them with ARO."

When there were no further questions, the bovine police chief nodded his head and continued with the morning report. "Next, I should mention we have a new recruit with us this morning. That, of course, being our first fox..." his eyes were drawn to the vixen sitting in the front row.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise that he was putting the spotlight on her, Carmelita wasn't sure what to make of that. She hadn't been expecting any recognition from what the man had warned her about yesterday. So what was his angle?

Reaching into his chest pocket to remove a pair of reading glasses, he cape buffalo snorted as he put his eyewear on. "Now then, I should take a moment to congratulate her on a job well done yesterday but frankly, _I don't care_ ," he said firmly. "You're all officers of the law, this is your **job**. So what if she managed to bring down a career thug before anyone else? Fine. She did it, he's finally behind bars, and we can now focus on other criminals. End of story."

Her triangular ears twitching at the gruff sounds of begrudging acceptance from around her, the Hispanic red fox understood what the large prey mammal was doing. Yes, there might have been some jealousy that she caught a perp who had been managing to evade the law for months but he just needed to remind them that in the long run, it was no big deal. She could do without any praise or special treatment if it meant she didn't have to worry about any of the other officers stabbing her back when they were supposed to be watching it.

Seeing that a few words were all it was going to take to get his officers to drop the subject for now, the muscular slab of beef nodded his head. "Anyway, onto the main reason you're all here bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning: **assignments**!" The horned herbivore snapped out, his brown eyes darting left and right to make certain his policemammals were giving him their full attention. Picking up the first of the red folders, the Officers Grizzoli," the Arctic wolf at the end of the opposite end of table Carmelita was sitting at raised his head. "Fangmeyer," the buff tigress sitting to the McHorn's right gave the Chief her attention. "And Delgato!" A young male lion sitting two rows behind the previously named tigress straightened up in his own seat. "Tundratown, Investigations."

The trio of police officers made their way out of their seats and to the front of the room, it was the wolf who managed to reach the podium first. Bogo handed the lupine the red folder as the two felines came up. Allowing them a moment to clear out of the room and free up space up in the front of the Bullpen, Chief Bogo continued, "Officers Snarlof," a male polar bear sitting all the way in the back sat up straight. "Rinovich," he called out, a black rhino on the opposite side of the room raised his head. "And Wolford!" A brown-furred timber wolf grinned. "Patrol, Sahara Square!"

Ignoring Piotr's griping about sending a polar bear like him to the hottest place in Zootopia, the cape buffalo awaited the named policemammals to make their way to the front. Interestingly enough, it was Officer Snarlof who made it up to get the paperwork first; the bovidae supposed the ursine just wanted to get the assignment over and done with since it was simple patrol duty. When that trio had cleared out, he went onto the third group, knowing he had to play this straight, for _**her**_ sake. "Officers Pennington," a female elephant sitting near the back of the room curled her trunk up in surprise at being called so soon. "McHorn," the rhino sitting up front snorted at having his coffee break interrupted. "And Montoya... Fox..." the ebony-skinned prey mammal trailed off as he corrected himself, his brown-eyed gaze was once more drawn to the vixen sitting practically in front of him.

Said vixen had perked up at having had her name called, curious as to where she was being assigned and for what. Hopefully it would give her a chance to make up for yesterday and find this, 'Beebo Pig'.

"Rainforest District, Vice," Idriis finally said, looking up from the paperwork and to the room as a whole so his attention wasn't solely on Barkley's protégé. The African buffalo just hoped that the fox remembered what he told her yesterday.

Carmelita nodded her head in understanding. She could do this. She'd had to work vice for Interpol before, particularly when the Klaww Gang was active and they were trying to track the Spice shipment and distribution to its source. Although, considering Vice was the umbrella term for crimes involving activities that are considered inherently immoral, regardless of the legality or objective harm involved, she got a distinct feeling that they would have her cracking down on some meat restaurants. _Darn it, someone needs to start a, 'Free the Bacon' movement around here_ , she thought idly as she dropped down from her seat and made her way to the police chief.

Watching as the Hispanic vulpine walk up to him and reach the podium first, the cape buffalo bent down and handed her the red-colored folder, making sure to tell her, "Don't forget to stop by the Acquisition Request Office! We should have some fishnets in your size."

"...Que?" She chirruped in confusion. Why would she need fishing nets? She was certain fish was still legal in this city but perhaps the act of fishing itself was illegal under certain circumstances in Zootopia and they needed the nets to catch any divers-turned-fish poachers. Still, if that's what he wanted of her, then so be it. "I just have one question, Chief!" The vulpine officer spoke up, watching as the larger mammal glared down at her as the other two **much** larger officers joined them up front. "Just where is the Acquisition Request Office?"

Realizing the woman wasn't going to cause a stink by refusing such an assignment, the muscular bovine let off a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in and nodded his head in gratitude to the woman's professionalism. "Head out this door," he motioned to his left. "Go down the hallway all the way to the end and take the stairwell down a floor. You'll signs pointing the way to ARO. It's part of the armory so it will be easy enough to find. Just make sure to show Officer Lupus the paperwork; he'll get you what you need."

Nodding her head, the Latina red fox replied, "Gracias." She then made her way for the door as the Chief began talking with the other two to about the van ready to mobilize. Pushing the wooden barrier open, the vixen made her way down the carpeted hall once more. When she made it to the steel door at the end of the hallway itself, the vixen brought her hands up and pushed it opened as well, the door swinging into the stairwell the African buffalo had told her would be there. Going down a solid flight of steps, the policewoman stopped at the next door and pushed it out into yet another hallway. One that was built of concrete walls that were painted with a rubbery gray color, adding a sensation of dreariness to the place but in turn made something all the more prominent.

The hallway itself lead into a somewhat open space, where a uniformed timber wolf with a ZPD baseball cap on his head was standing behind multi-layered wall of polycarbonate and laminated glass with a rolling chain-link fencing on his side of it. The open port in the wall was the only–actually visible–way to directly interact with him and vice-versa. She watched as the taller canid was idly flipping through the pages of a magazine he had set atop the counter on his side of the porthole, obviously just doing some light reading to pass the time. "That has got to be the armory," the vixen murmured as she walked up to it, red case folder firmly in hand.

Hearing the sounds of footsteps echoing in the hallway, the brown-furred wolf raised his eyes... only to do a double-take at what he saw before him: a uniformed fox. He had to blink his eyes a few times, straightening up posture as he became a bit more serious. "You are...?" he trailed off, wanting to get the woman's name.

Coming up to the wall of bulletproof glass that acted as the first line of defense for the ZPD's armory, the woman straightened up as well, giving the lupine male the same level of professionalism he was giving her in return. "Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox," she stated in a firm and commanding tone of voice.

The officer behind the protective barrier blinked his eyes as recognition dawned upon his features. "...Oh..." he finally said. "You're the lady that the other fox was here last week for then, aren't you?"

That caught Carmelita's attention. She blinked her eyes once, twice. "...You mean Nick?" Yes, she had sent him to the police station but she didn't think they would have allowed a civilian down here so close to an assortment of weapons... not that she believe Wilde would have gotten away with anything but such seemed rather lax when it came to security.

Nodding his head, the tall wolf replied, "That's the one..." he released the part of the magazine he was holding, allowing the pages to drop down flat on his side of the open window's counter-top. He then leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her. "I must say, I am impressed. That uniform I had to piece together came out _quite_ nicely." The carnivore cop chuckled. "Personally, I thought the guy was crazy or pulling my leg at the time but..." he shrugged his shoulders in a helpless fashion. "Well, after yesterday you certainly proved you aren't some Chihuahua." Straightening up a bit, he queried, "Anyway, I'm Officer Franklin Lupus. So what brings you down here today, Officer Fox? If you need to, we can fill out some forms and get you more uniforms."

Nodding her head at the lupine male's amiability and overall helpful attitude, the Hispanic vixen gave him a small smile in return. "Well then, Officer Lupus," she began slowly, making sure the taller canid was listening. "Chief Bogo sent me down to the ARO—"

"ARO~ **OOOOOOOO** _ **OOOOOOOOOOOO**_!" The wolf howled suddenly as he reared his head back, startling the smaller female predator. Blinking his eyes once, twice, the man went flush wish embarrassment. "Er... sorry about that, ma'am. Please, just call this place the Acquisition Request Office outright or simply, 'the Armory'... otherwise you get a Howl going."

The vulpine policewoman blinked her eyes once, twice, thrice. "Oh... oka~aaaayy..." she drawled out slowly as she gave the lupine officer a nod of her head in a show of understanding. It was best for both her and him to not to trigger something like that **again**. "Anyway," she began, hoping to put the faux pas behind them. "I need you to look at this, and let me know what equipment I will need for it, please." She asked as stepped up to the open port in the wall and she slid the colored folder in through it.

Taking the red folder from her, the lupine started to read over it... before his eyes went wide with genuine shock. He looked over the rim of the open folder he was holding and at the vixen who stood beyond the security wall. "Well beaver dam..." he cursed in a rodent fashion. "I mean, it makes _sense_ they would choose you for this assignment but... beaver dam it all! If this ain't one of the most specist things I've seen, than I don't know **what** is!" He grumbled as he placed the paperwork down atop his magazine.

Her eyes wide, the woman stared up at her fellow canid cop in shock. "Que!?" Carmelita gasped out in surprise. Needless to say, his response made her more than curious as to what was going on. The female red fox wanted to reach for the case file and take a good look for herself but she didn't want to cause any trouble by reaching behind the port. However that didn't mean he couldn't give her an answer. "What are you talking about!?" She asked firmly in a commanding tone, demanding some sort of explanation.

The wolf looked down at his fellow canid, his features cringing as if he'd bit into a lemon. "...Maybe it would be best if I just showed me. Just let me get you the box."

"...The box?" Officer Fox chirruped. "What's in the box?" She asked as the lupine policemammal turned around, putting his back to the woman. "Hey! What's in the box?" She called out after him as he headed deeper into the armory. "Darn it, what's in the box? What's in the box!?"

After a moment, Franklin's voice called out from within the depths armory. " _Cake_."

That gave the Latina beauty a moment of pause. "...Really?"

" _No, I lied_." The wolf out of the woman's field of view chuckled.

Groaning, the Officer Fox brought her right hand up to her face, gently pinching the bridge of her muzzle near her eyes to avert the oncoming headache. "De todo lo increíble..." she grumbled irritably at her fellow policemammal's ribbing.

"Oh, don't be like that... it's all in good fun," The lupine police officer replied as he returned to his fellow canid cop, carrying a large box in his arms as he did. He then placed the container atop the counter on his side of the port window and used both hands to push it through. Really, he actually needed to push through. Even with him adding a bit of elbow grease, the box _JUST_ made the clearance and even then he had to scrape the cardboard slightly to get it on through. "I can at least promise you that while it's not Gwyneth Leoparltrow's head in there, it might still be rather disturbing in a whole other way..."

Carmelita frowned at that comment as the box made it through the opening in the bulletproof glass to her side of the security wall. Reaching up with both her hands, the Latina vulpine took hold of the cardboard container and lifted it up. It was, surprisingly, rather light but there was a bit of heft that let her know something was inside it. The Hispanic red fox began to rustle it about, nodding her head as she heard materials moving inside of it. From the sounds coming inside, it _could_ have been fishing nets...

Setting the box down on the ground, the vixen opened the top of the folded cardboard lid halves, nodding her head as she did indeed see netting atop a whole bunch of other stuff, some of which actually had a shimmer to it from reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead. "Looks like I'm going finishing..." she murmured as she took hold of and lifted the net up to get a better look at it. After a moment Officer Fox blinked her eyes in confusion as she saw it wasn't a straight up square or rectangular shape on first glance. "What the..." she murmured in growing confusion as she pulled more and more of it out of the box, realizing that it was taking on the shape of a leg... a leg much, MUCH larger than her own.

This wasn't fishing net! This was a pair of fishnets!

Seeing the woman look at him with a perplexed gaze, Franklin merely shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, we keep adding more and more pieces of clothes of various sixes to the Vice box as time goes on... stuff that certain parties never reclaimed after being busted the first time, stuff that is released to us from criminal storage after the active case's time is up, and even some are outright donations. We affectionately refer to it as, 'The Slut Box'."

Carmelita twitched as she mentally digested that bit of information. "The slut box?" The Latina red fox parroted. Oh, she was getting an idea of what she was supposed to do, but this? _Oh yeah, this would be lots of fun to dress up in the bedroom with, that was for sure!_ _ **NOT!**_ The vixen thought with absolute annoyance. "So I need this because..."

Bringing a paw up and using a thumb to tilt the brim of his baseball cap higher, the wolf leaned onto his side of the counter to get a better look at the woman on the floor with the box of proverbial shame. "Well, your paperwork says your working Vice; prostitution busts in Downtown," Franklin replied as he looked down at the woman. "So you need to look the part."

"Look the part my furry... crimson... wait..." she trailed off as something the wold said stuck out to her. "The Downtown District?" Carmelita questioned, wanting to make sure she heard him right. Seeing the man nod his head, he closed the crimson folder and slit it back out for the woman to take. Standing up, she reached her right hand up to the counter before grasping the case file. Bringing to her, the vixen flipped it open and began to look over it, her eyes widening as she really took in the information. "Huh... so it really **does** list Downtown as the place we're setting up the stakeout. The Chief had told us to go to the Rainforest District..." she murmured quietly before shrugging her shoulders in acceptance. He **did** tell her yesterday that she should follow the paperwork to the letter, not just what he said because of his age. "Well then... looks like I'm going downtown... as the bait."

Nodding his head in agreement with that assessment, the timber wolf helpfully added, "Yep! Although if I might give some advice?" Seeing the vulpine policewoman raise her head to give him her attention, a huge grin blossomed across his muzzle. "Go with the purple things if they're in your size. I think purple would be the perfect, 'slut' color for you."

Twitching in growing irritation, Carmelita lowered the case file in her right hand as her left started to clenched and unclench in a fist that promised to deliver a world of pain. "You are _so_ lucky you're behind a protective barrier of bulletproof glass right now. Otherwise I would _**SO**_ pop you in the nose for that, damn the consequences!"

The lips of his smile pulling back even further to display his sharp teeth in a massive grin, the lupine policeman offered, "Why do you think I actually said it?"

Bringing her hand to the side of her head, the Latina red fox rubbed her left temple and sighed heavily in exasperation. Honestly though? She couldn't really blame him. Not that she looked at women like that, but she could only imagine how she would look as a wannabe-prostitute. "Fine..." she murmured, hoping he would drop it at that.

Of course, Officer Lupus didn't. "Oh! You may also want to make sure you're wearing sexy panties!" At the look he was given, he held his arms up in a warding fashion. "Prostitutes get more business when they wear Brazilian-cut panties after all."

"...You better pray we don't meet outside of here, and I don't mean the station, I mean this room in general," the vixen warned after a moment of deliberation before deciding, 'fuck it'. "Even if you are a fellow officer of the law, I find your conduct bordering on sexual harassment and I won't stand for it!" Hell, this whole case would have been one big massive lawsuit waiting to happen if it happened anywhere but Zootopia! Hopefully it was just going to be for today.

Nodding his head, the timber world replied, "Understood..." he went silent for a moment and then offered, "Also you should wear the Brazilian-cut over the fishnets for an extra hot-to-trot factor going!"

Raising an eyebrow at how this literal horndog seemed to tempt fate quite often with her in the mere span of minutes, the vixen's corners of her lips pulled back into a frown across her muzzle. "That's an adult magazine you're looking at, isn't it?"

"...I plead the Fifth," Franklin said after a moment.

The woman took a deep breath before telling him, "You do realize that I'm not American, right?" At the wolf's confused look, she sighed. "I recognize that as an American term, I know that it means something but I'm not from this country and that term doesn't mean as much to me." Granted, she really did but she was hoping he didn't... she had a setting on her shock pistol with his name on it otherwise!

Sadly for her, the mammal knew what he was talking about. "The right to not incriminate myself," he said quickly, hoping to cover his tail.

The Hispanic vixen blinked her chocolate eyes a few times. "Darn fifth amendment and cultural differences..." she murmured in annoyance as it looked like her shock pistol would be remain reserved for the streets for the time being.

The wolf considered that comment for a moment before deciding perhaps what he wanted to say was worth a shot. "Well since you admit to not being from this country..." Franklin started slowly, not wanting to come off as antagonistic–and certainly not wanting to test just how much stress bulletproof glass could actually manage. "...Could I see you dress here? I mean it when I said I wish to give you heads up on how you're dressing."

" **NO**!" Carmelita snapped, feeling that yes, she needed to report this asshole to Bogo ASAP! Keeping things civil with the other officers be DAMNED! She was not going to put up with such openly abrasive sexual harassment, _especially_ when the jerk genuinely didn't think he was doing anything wrong by it!

Shrugging his shoulders, the lupine could only murmur, "Well, it was worth a shot. Good luck with your assignment today!" He chirruped in a surprisingly merry fashion.

Taking hold of the box once more, the Hispanic vixen grumbled under her breath in irritation. She couldn't believe she was being handed such a crappy assignment. Sure, she was certain it probably had to do with her experience and the fact she could handle herself, but the fact she had to lower her appearance to that of a common hooker was loathsome! A bitter pill for her to swallow, considering the stereotypes that surrounded her species...

She just hoped she could put together an outfit that wouldn't use any purple.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I wonder what's taking her so long..." a uniformed elephant murmured as she sat in the back of the unmarked white van that was filled with state of the art communications equipment; the pair of back doors currently opened to allow the woman a chance to breath. It really did get hot back there with all the heat the consoles could generate while they worked on keeping stable reception for back-and-forth transmissions. "We need to get her wire hooked up and head out!"

His left hand reaching out on the side-view mirror as he physically adjusted it, the rhinoceros sitting in the driver's seat spoke up questioningly, "What's the problem, Francine? You got somewhere else you need to be?"

"Yes!" The elephant snapped in response. "I'm needed to pick up little Thomas from soccer practice after school. If I don't get in at least six hours active duty on the clock Animal Resources won't let me punch out."

That statement made the horned herbivore blink his eyes in surprise. "Ah..." Officer McHorn finally said in understanding. "I didn't realize it was your turn to look after your son today."

The woman's shoulders sagged. "Frankly, it's my turn all this week and next," the female elephant replied, the nose of her trunk pulling a napkin out of her pocket and bringing it up to her forehead to wipe. "My husband's still on Migration. He's not coming home until the first Sunday of next month!"

Before the rhino could respond to that, both heard as one of the doors to the parking garage opened with a rather audible click-clacking. Turning his head to look out the window while Francine got up from her seat to look out the back of the van, both officers stared at what they beheld. They couldn't help it. Both were almost certain that Carmelita was going to have to beat mammals off with a stick... or that shock pistol of hers.

Her hair was fluffed up, both it and the purple arm-length gloves able to draw attention to her from a distance. But as she got closer, one could see the Hispanic vixen was wearing fishnet stockings and purple high heels which caused her to walk in such a way that her hips were swaying more than usual. She was wearing a tight corset that covered her abdomen... but what really was eye-catching was the fact that her breasts were all but bare, save for a pair of red heart-shaped pasties over her nipples, the woman's mammaries jiggling with each step, the corset also tugging up high enough so that they could easily see her violet panties with the yellow text, 'Lick Here'.

Her head sticking out of the back of the truck, all Officer Pennington could reply was, "My word." Really, there was nothing else to say. The small female predator certainly _looked_ the part of a prostitute. That much was **darn certain**!

Now craning his head out of the open driver's side window, the rhinoceros was just as flabbergasted by what he was staring at. Eventually, he was able to finally respond, "How much for an hour?"

No one could say the man wasn't able to speak without thinking.

"Officer Patrick Bluth McHorn!" Francine trumpeted out, positively scandalized that he would ask that of another officer, even if she certainly was living up to her breed's standards of being a, 'sultry vixen'!

Seeing the reactions of the officers she was being paired with for this assignment, the Latina vulpine just sighed in annoyance. "Let's just get this over with," Carmelita muttered as she walked up to the back of the van. Oh, how she really, _really_ did not want to be doing this. The last thing she wanted was for someone she knew to see her like this. She could only imagine what Honey's or–God forbid–Nick's reaction would be to seeing her like this.

Nodding her head in complete agreement, the larger policewoman leaned forward. "Sure, sure... come on," the elephant replied as her trunk came out, her strongly muscled proboscis wrapping itself around the female red fox's outstretched arm and giving her a lift into the back of the vehicle with her. Letting Officer Fox down into another seat of the back, the larger woman took the time to close both sets of doors on the back of the van. "I have to say, I'm very surprised you chose something so... revealing."

The Latina vulpine couldn't help but blush with embarrassment; a crimson flush managing its way through her facial fur. "I couldn't help it! I looked through that damned box and about ninety-percent of it was stuff that was _way_ too big on me. I had to put an outfit together with what was left and this was the best I could come up with." Otherwise there was no way in hell she would have been wearing purple after how excited Officer Franklin got for it! "Believe me, I wanted my breasts to at least have more cover than this!"

And for the first moment in her career, Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox was actually glad Sly **wasn't** around. If the Ringtail saw her like this, he would be begging her to come home in this outfit–if one could actually be generous enough call it that–every day for the rest of their lives!

Nodding her head in understanding and sympathy, the massive prey mammal told her. "I understand. Believe me, I do. That's why I must admit," Officer Pennington chirruped as she sat down in her own seat. "I have to thank you for joining us. Usually when I get stuck working Vice, **I'm** the one that has to go out there."

Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice, thrice. "...And that explains why a number of the fishnets in that box were so stretched out they actually could have been used as fishing nets..."

Blinking his eyes for a moment, a smirk tugged at the corner of the rhino's lips. Despite himself, McHorn barked out a laugh from his place the front seat.

Her ears pressing against either side of her head, the large herbivore blushed a bit. "Yeah... not something I'm proud of, trust me." Officer Pennington sighed. It wasn't her fault that her breed was just so massive and that so many smaller mammals were chubby chasers. "On the other hand, with how appealing you look, you'll probably be making more than a few busts today."

Managing to calm down his laughter, the lone male officer of the group had to add his own two cents. "And remember!" He called out to the back. "If you like one of the animals who propositions you, at least use a hotel when not on duty," McHorn chirped in with a laugh.

Her ears pressing against the back of her head, Carmelita frowned as she looked towards the front. "I'm not looking for a relationship, Officer McHorn," she told him in all seriousness. "Just take us to some place in the Downtown District so we can get on with this assignment."

"Sure I—wait," the horned mammal suddenly stopped himself as he switched mental gears. Looking over his shoulder and into the back once more, the rhino was quick to interject, "The chief said we're supposed to be heading out to the Rainforest District."

The Latina vixen nodded her head, a little relieved to find that IS what he she had heard back at the Bullpen. "He may have said that but the paperwork clearly states Downtown." As she said that, the vulpine held up the case file, only to have the elephant take it from her with her trunk.

Holding the crimson file aloft before her at her eye-level, the pachyderm policewoman used the flexible muscle at the end of her nostril to flip open the cover open. Narrowing her eyes, she began to carefully read over the assignment outline. Nodding her head in satisfaction, Officer Pennington chirruped, "She's right, McHorn. It's written here clear as day: Downtown District."

Shrugging his shoulders, the uniformed rhino replied, "Whatever. In fact that's even better. Trying to drive this clunker in the Rainforest District is terrible. Tires get barely any damn traction as it is, let alone the constantly slick roads of the RD," he said as he grasped his seatbelt. "Anyway, you all buckle up back there. We're heading out." When he had his own seatbelt fastened, he began shifting the van's gear out of Park and into reverse, backing the large vehicle out of the parking space.

As she was settled in her own seat and her safety restraint fastened, Carmelita took a moment to look at the police wire the larger woman offered. "How am I going to set this up?" She queried, as it seemed to lack the usual characteristics of wearing a wire.

"Don't worry, I'll help you," Francine said as she took hold of the elongated bud and ear clamp combo. "If you're curious, there's a battery already in it. With no physical wire, it's less likely to stand out than a traditional wire-tap," the elephant explained as she fitted the device into the left ear and slid the extension of plastic within the hoop of the other woman's earring, making it look as though it were part of the jewelry.

With that taken care of, the pachyderm then turned her seat about towards the console and picked up her own head-set. Working a few buttons on it, the woman looked at the screen as numerous lines of text came on as the system booted up. After a few minutes of keeping watch of the screen as the rhinoceros drove them away from Precinct One, Officer Pennington's eyes widened as she saw the system go online. Bringing the headset up and placing it on her head with her hands, her trunk moved the microphone into position near her mouth. "Can you hear me, Officer Fox? Is this too loud?"

Blinking her eyes as she heard an echo of both the voice in front of her and in her ear, the vixen realized that, "It's working! But you may want to turn down the volume control on your end. If you're too loud then the John might here you talking to me."

Officer Pennington nodded and gave her a thumbs-up with her trunk after fixing the volume control. Seeing the decibel control where she wanted it the elephant officer told her fellow policewoman, "There we go. You're all set then."

As the two sets of voices were more in sync and the direct source in her ear no longer a considerable blast, Carmelita nodded her head. "Okay, that's _MUCH_ better," she replied as she made sure to shoulder her pocketbook. "All right, I have my badge, handcuffs, and my shock pistol in my purse. So how are we going about this?" She chirruped, wanting to know the ZPD's modus operandi for prostitution stings.

"It's simple," McHorn called back from the front seat. "You get them to verbally offer you money for sex. We come in and bust them up, and call for a pick-up. Then we start all over again somewhere else in the District. Usually the department wants us to catch five perps in a day whenever we're on this assignment." The way he spoke, said volumes of his experience in with this job in particular.

Nodding her head in understanding, the Latina vulpine figured, "Sounds easy enough. I admit I haven't done anything like this in a long, _long_ time but I'm willing to give it a shot..." she trailed off as her eyes went distance, remembering the last time she actually went undercover was that party at Rajan's palace where she managed to have her first dance with Sly. Wanting to get the traitorous thoughts out of her head, the vixen distracted herself by turning her attention from the back of the driver's cabin and back to the elephant. "Say, Officer Pennington?"

The wide ears of the elephant flapped a moment at realizing she was being addressed. "Hmm? What is it, Officer Fox?" She queried as she turned her seat about slightly to get a better look at the vulpine to address her.

"Just how bad is the prostitution problem in Zootopia if they have to dedicate an actual case assignment to Vice for it?" The female red fox asked, genuinely curious as to the city-state's standing with sex trafficking.

Pursing her lips, the pachyderm considered that for a moment as she considered how to answer. "Well, I can't say it's _too_ bad, per say..." the Elephant trailed off. "From what I know, the prostitution problem is about on par with most major cities... at least those out in the open."

That response caused the vulpine officer blink her big brown eyes. "Out in the open?" She repeated, wanting a bit of an explanation behind that.

"There are always the high-end prostitutes that make house calls," Francine went on to answer. "We have a real tough time catching up with those. Plus there are rumors that sometimes minors slip into sex shops..."

Carmelita frowned at that. Minors in sex shops? That wasn't something she liked to think about. "I can't believe there are shops that allow that..." she grumbled in annoyance. Of all the aspects Zootopia would actually have Left leanings, _that_ of all things was one of them?

The woman snorted, making her trunk toot out. "They don't," the larger of the two policewomen said firmly. "Some kids are tall enough, mature looking enough and their voices don't crack constantly that they can get away with it," the elephant replied as she leaned back in her chair, making it creak under her wait. "Although I did hear about a rumor concerning a sixteen-year-old who got into one of the porn movie theaters and started an orgy..."

The male officer up from chuckled upon hearing that. "I heard about that. The lucky punk. That must have been one hache-eee-double-hockey-sticks of a sweet sixteen..." he murmured, unaware of the larger elephant glaring at the back of his head.

Seeing the larger female mammal ready to smack their driver in the back of his skull, Carmelita decided to nip such in the bud by keeping the conversation going. "So I can assume no one was caught then?"

However, it was the rhino that gave her an answer instead of the woman she had been trying to address. "It's a bit difficult to arrest animals when you hear about it months after the fact," McHorn grumbled. "Trust me. We would all want to stop that from happening again," he said firmly as he turned his attention back to the road fully. "All right, ladies. We're almost at a good section of town for drop off. You sure you're going to be good for this, Officer Fox?" He called out over his shoulder to the pair of policewomen in the back.

Nodding her head, the vulpine firmly stated, "Ready as I'll ever be!" She meant it too. While she wasn't so keen on being dressed for the assignment, this was a genuine problem and so she would do her best. She promised she would make the city a better place and if such included getting a number of perverts off the street, then so be it! "So you two will be nearby then?"

"Naturally," The rhinoceros replied. "We just can't keep the van too close. Even if it's mocked up as a regular delivery van, having a large parked vehicle around any hooker is suspicious if not an outright tipoff something is wrong. We'll still be within a block or two though, not to worry," he told the predator in a reassuring manner. "Speaking of which though..." he pulled the van up to the sidewalk curb. "Here's your stop. Go get 'em, Fox!"

"Got it!" The Hispanic vixen chirruped as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got up from the chair. Making her way to the direct back of the van, she opened the door to her right and carefully pushed it open. Climbing down to the bumper and standing to the front of the opposite door, she then closed the metal barrier she had exited out through before jumping off the back end of the vehicle. Stepping back and watching for a moment as the white van began to drive off, Carmelita got up onto the sidewalk as she looked about the area of the Downtown District around her. Not that the place was in disrepair or anything along those lines but there was something of a, 'seedy' feeling to it thanks to the muted colors that made it feel more natural than the cheery theme park sensation that city center of Savanna Central seemed to give off.

So walking down along the sidewalk before coming to a stop at a corner by a street sign, the vixen waited, looking positively bored while leaning back against the metal pole. As much as it annoyed her to do this, all she could do was wait for someone to approach her. Not that she **wanted** anyone to, it still would have been better if at least one person attempted. She idly wiggled a chopstick between her index and middle fingers before wondering where she got it from. _Then again, if I smoked, I'd probably be smoking a cigarette right now_ , she thought to herself, wondering if the rest of the day was going to be like this. "I sure hope not." The Latina vulpine muttered to herself as she adjusted how she was standing and looked around some more. Not too many mammals out, but still... it wasn't like they would be coming out of the woodwork to illegally purchase sexual gratifications. All Carmelita could do was be patient and just try and be the sexiest vixen she could be.

She remained on the street corner for a solid twenty minutes before she finally heard a voice call out to her. "Well, _**hello**_ there..." the male voice spoke up with far too much enthusiasm to be anything but sleazy. Turning her head towards the source, the undercover vulpine blinked her brown eyes at the white-furred wolf that grinning at her. "Now I must admit," the lupine in a three-piece Giorgio Armanadillo suit began. "I'm not normally into foxes, but I won't say no to a fine piece of meat like you."

Ignoring her gut reaction to simply punch the guy in **his** gut, the policewoman pushed down her instincts as she looked up at him. Oh yes, this lupine was practically a citrus fruit with how badly he was setting off her Inspector's Intuition. So much orange was shining all over his frame, particularly around his neck and his right hand which was mostly buried in his pocket. Oh, this was _definitely_ someone that was no good and likely to be the first John of the day. "Hola yourself, handsome..." she cooed out in a sultry tone that put emphasis on her accent, one she knew Sly loved to hear her talk with. "So what are you looking for, Papi? It's one-hundred and fifty a half hour, two hundred a full hour, and another twenty-five if you want anal."

 _Damn! I am actually_ _ **ashamed**_ _of how easily I just listed that_ , she thought in disgust. It was something she had heard a couple of the prostitutes say to potential customers before she gave both a fat lip during her one-woman war on street crime the past two months in Paris. Still, the fact it sounded natural would have helped convey the legitimacy of what she was trying to appear to be.

Bringing a paw up to idly scratch at his chin, the wolf considered that. "One-hundred and fifty dollars, huh? Good thing I've got both the money and protection. Hope you don't mind if you clothes get dirty." He chuckled to himself with pride, just knowing how awesomely he was going to rock this whore's world. By the time the half-hour was done, she wouldn't be able to take anything smaller than his dick.

Despite the urge to vomit in her throat at the lupine man's sleazy come-on, Carmelita kept her sultry smile firmly plastered on her face. "Oh? Only the one-fifty, Papi? Don't want to take me for an hour?" She cooed. "I take it you don't want to do much to sweet little ol' me if you can be done in only that much time..." she cooed. She had managed to coax him into offering money but she needed him to say what for to make any charges stick.

"Oh but I do. You're getting one-hundred and fifty dollars for an hour and you will _appreciate_ my generosity... unless, of course, you don't need the cash, little lady." He grinned at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a rather imperious fashion. "Why, at this rate I might as well take my money elsewhere if I can't trust what you streetwalkers are saying."

Carmelita's smile twitched. Sure, she had said a hundred and fifty for a half hour while he wanted a full hour for such money... but since she had no intention of actually having relations with the canid creep, she would let him have this small victory... only because it helped to further incriminate him. "All right, all right Papi..." she said, making sure her tone was one of bitter acceptance. "One-hundred and fifty for the hour..." her lips went into a thin line. "But remember, it's still twenty-five more if you want to try the backdoor."

At the woman's show of spirit, the wolf chuckled. "Listen here, **bitch**! I _**will**_ get whatever I _**want**_ with one-hundred and fifty dollars. That includes tapping that sweet, rounded vixen ass. Now either get in the alley and bend over or I'll go elsewhere. There are plenty of you **Yiffers** out there who would bend over _BACKWARDS_ for a hundred and fifty!"

The woman's lips twitched again... although this time, they began curling up into a devious smile as she heard Francine tell her, ' _We got him_ ' via the radio0bud in her left ear. "Ah... well when you put it that way, Papi..." the Latina vixen cooed as she stepped forward, making sure to thrust out her chest at the carnivore creep she was going to make regret his life choices. "To the alley then? I plan to be very busy today..."

Grinning wide in victory to show off his pearly white fangs in an act of dominance, the Arctic wolf told her, "Now that's the spirit, bitch." His right hand came down, firmly slapping the undercover vixen's left butt-cheek before giving it a harsh squeeze. "Lead the way."

"Of course," the Latina beauty replied as she smiled at him. Looking left and right, she grinned as she led him towards an alley way for some privacy.

Bringing his paws up and rubbing them together in anticipation, the lustful lupine was quick to follow after the sway of those luscious foxy hips. "Oh, this will be fun..." The wolf whispered gleefully, his tail wagging behind him in delight.

A moment later there was a spark that illuminated the alley that was compounded by the sounds of both a crackle and a yelp of pain as a burst of electrical energy was discharged into the hapless idiot.

Carmelita smiled as she looked down at the twitching creep, his nice clothes smoking as they were singed along the edges of the hem, sleeves, and pant-legs. Exhaling in satisfaction, the woman could only say, "Well now **THAT** was worth the verbal abuse..." she murmured as she put the shock pistol back into her purse. Bringing her hand up to hear ear, the vulpine replied, "Make sure pick-up comes ASAP and reads him his Miranda Rights. I've already got the perp down and I don't think he'd appreciate getting another blast from The Equalizer."

" _Roger, roger_ ," she heard over the com link. " _ETA two minutes_."

Nodding her head at the affirmation from Officer Pennington, the vulpine turned her gaze towards the downed and twitching form of the white-furred wolf. "Well, I have some good news and some bad news," she said in a surprisingly sweet tone. "The bad news is... yes, you're going to jail. The good news? While a Class A misdemeanor, the sentencing can only go up to one year, a fine of six-thousand dollars, or both! Isn't that just grand?" Or six...

His eyes now blood-shot from the point-blank blast he took to the face, the downed lupine in now dirty high-scale suit coughed out, "Cuh-can I just pay the fine?"

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a prick and smacked my ass," the Latina vixen chirruped sweetly. "But once the arresting officers get my report?" She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook her head. "I can only imagine all too well you pulling this shit on other vulpine women if not prostitutes in general. So we'll see what the court of law says, pal."

His ears flattening back against his skull, the downed perp couldn't help but whimper like a kicked puppy. "I'd rather just pay the fine..." the wolf groaned as he lay on his back.

"Well that will be up to the courts to decide..." the Latina vixen replied as both the white van and a police criminal transport vehicle came at the mouth of the alley. "Oh look, and there's your ride now."

Bringing his hands up to his face, the wolf groaned in exasperation.

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Sitting hunched over his desk, Chief Bogo glared at the tiny screen of his cell phone. Having perused ViewTube, he had come across that which would help him relax during one of his very rare lunch breaks.

A vintage Gazelle music video. One so old it only played in 240p!

" _This time for Africa! You're a good soldier, choosing your battles! Pick yourself up and dust yourself off and back in the saddle_..."

As he watched, the cape buffalo's long face was pulled back into a rare grin, the massive muscled mammal's shoulders swaying back and forth as he danced in his seat to the beat. He couldn't help it! He always enjoyed listening to and watching the sweet and lovely Columbian herbivore Gazelle dancing and he was finding such joy in his favorite song...

 ***Knock*!**

 ***Knock*!**

Joy that was interrupted by the noise of knuckles firmly rapping against the open doorframe of his office; the police chief's quarters still hadn't gotten its new door. "Chief Bogo?" Carmelita chirruped as she stuck her head into the room. "Are you busy at the moment?"

His hooved hands coming down atop his phone to cover the screen, the African buffalo snapped, "DON'T WAKA WAKA IN HERE!" Before coughing as he then corrected, "I mean, don't walk in here just yet! Give me a moment!" He then grumbled under his breath at the injustice of it all as he had to turn off his cell phone. The man could barely find time to indulge in his one harmless vice of some poppy Gazelle songs anymore. When he had it ready, the large bovine turned his gaze towards the door. "All right, enter!" Bogo called out.

Given permission, Carmelita walked into the police chief's office, wearing a very large police shirt... and seemingly nothing else.

Raising an eyebrow, the heavily-muscled herbivore eyed the much smaller predator with a most curious gaze. "...You're going commando?" He chirruped in confusion. He knew she was a dedicated Inspector of Interpol but he didn't think Officer Fox was _that_ dedicated!

Rolling her eyes, the navy blue-tressed vixen let off a long-suffering sight. "I'm dressed under this. Officer Clawhauser didn't like seeing me costumed for prostitution busts so offered me one of his extra shirts he keeps on paw to maintain a neat appearance for his shift to allow me a measure of dignity." She then lifted a flap of the shirt's hem to show off the grape jelly stain for emphasis. "Or at least as much dignity as one of his already used shirts will allow for..." still, even she had to admit it was a step up from walking around looking like a hooker.

"...Ah..." the horned herbivore replied in a rather deadpan manner, only to be hit by a sudden realization. "Wait a minute! You're back _already_?" He looked at the clock on his wall, seeing was just a little past one pm. He turned his gaze back to the vixen standing before his desk and frowned. "You were supposed to be out there for another three hours! I mean, would five perps looking for a good time be that... difficult... or...?" He trailed off, realizing that his worst fears for her may have come true. "What happened?"

Walking up to and standing beside the man at his desk, the vulpine policewoman reached her arms out from within the oversized shirt that Clawhauser had lent her upon seeing her state of dress. When the large prey mammal's eyes were drawn down to the woman, he found vixen was offering him to a large stack of papers to take. "Here you go, Sir!" Carmelita began with a strong and clear tone. "Officers McHorn, Pennington, and I made a total of thirty arrests."

"..." Bogo stared down at her, his eyes going wide as his pupils dilated.

"...Before noon," the Latina vulpine added in a firm, no-nonsense tone. "We could have likely cuffed more but seeing that we had handled six times the requested amount of arrests and Officer Pennington got a phone call from the school about her little boy getting into a fight during lunch, we decided it would be best to take a break. I've been spending the past hour filling out these forms for you. I might not be able to put them into the system myself yet but at least this way you don't have to write the details yourself."

"..." the large ebony-skinned mammal twitched before reaching out and taking the stack of paperwork from the ZPD's latest–albeit temporary–recruit. He placed the papers on his desk and began to flip through them, quickly looking at pictures, skimming over the initial facts of the reports... and taking notice that she really was quite thorough with how much was written on each page. "Take a seat, please," he requested of the red fox, knowing this would likely take him awhile to read through.

Nodding her head in understanding, the female vulpine walked back around to the front of his desk and climbed up into one of the uncomfortable stiff-backed chairs, making certain to draw in the shirt a bit more to try and give herself some decency. As she tried to adjust her sitting position, she watched as her current boss put on his glasses and began to peruse the written reports with courteous professionalism and genuine interest.

It took around twenty minutes as he ended up doing more than just skimming at some sections. Finally though, the cape buffalo lowered the papers in his grasp and raised his head up, his brown eyes gazing out at the woman with a look of shock and awe. "You genuinely did it... you busted thirty Johns. That's a new Precinct record..." left unsaid was a record for **all** the ZPD Precincts, from their smallest of officer's outpost in Outback Island to their massive station here in Savanna Central!

Smiling slightly, the navy-haired canid officer looked up to the man and replied, "Thank you, Sir!" She hadn't been after any company record but she was glad to have gotten something positive concerning vixens out there... even if it was for busting dirty-minded mammals.

"Still," the man started once more, his voice becoming deep and serious as he made sure to make eye contact with the woman. "I would appreciate it if in future reports you **didn't** include their pickup lines." Some of the stuff he read was just sad.

Sitting up in her seat, Officer Fox firmly replied, "I felt it was necessary to show the depths of their depravity."

The horned herbivore's right eyebrow shot up. Flipping through a few of the files, he pulled one out and looked at it again. "...So this one really did ask..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

The Latina red fox gave her superior a nod of her head in affirmation. "Yes, Sir," she piped up in a professional manner. "He did indeed request that I kick him in the balls and tell him he was a good girl."

"..." _Truly, there are no words for this_ , was all the muscular mammal could think.

Fortunately, Carmelita did. "They're animals, Sir."

"...Fair enough," Chief Bogo replied before making certain to double-check a certain aspect of that report. "...But did you have to shoot him in the balls though?" He could feel his groin shriveling up just thinking about it.

Not wanting to be accused of police brutality and give foxes a bad name, the Latina policewoman was quick to explain, "I had my shock pistol on a very low setting. At that capacity, it would only be able to singe the hair on a mouse."

"..." the muscular slab of beef couldn't help it. Curiosity got the better of him. "...You didn't tell him he was a good girl, did you?"

Folding her hands over her lap, the female red fox answered, "I told him if he went to jail he would have plenty of new friends to call him that."

His shoulders slumping, Bogo slowly hung his head and sighed in exasperation. Bringing his right hand up to the side of his head, the man rubbed at his temple with his hooved digits. "Please. Do **not** encourage these mammals..." he grumbled before bringing his hand down to grasp the case files. He then immediately stiffed up as the next report had him blinking in shock. "Wait... a woman?"

"Just the first," the Hispanic vixen chirruped from her seat. "Five of the arrests made overall were women."

His eyes quickly darting back and forth between Officer Fox and the contents written on the report, the African buffalo could help but remark, "And this one..."

The woman could only nod her head once move in affirmation. "Yes. She wanted to bend me over, spank my rear until it was red, and have me call her Mistress FucKitty." One could practically hear the capitalized 'k' in her speech.

The horned herbivore continued to look at his subordinate with a perplexed gaze, wondering if he hadn't had a heart attack and was currently under getting a second bypass done. Finally, Bogo began to look over the reports once more, treating them as if they were the second coming of the company phone... which, come to think of it, he _really_ needed to just dump into the trash can at some point.

As he continued to read, one thing became absolutely clear to the ebony-skinned herbivore. "I have half a mind to submit these to Penthouse Magazine..." he told her firmly. "But I was never much of a fan of Bob Goosecione." That mammal just didn't have the same level of class Hugh Heiferner had in his day. He then snorted as he lowered the reports. "So what of Officers McHorn and Pennington?"

"As I stated earlier, Officer Francine Pennington had to take off for Zootopia Public School One-Eighteen to check on her little boy Trumpet," Carmelita explained. "Officer Patrick McHorn on the other paw, is taking care of his own paperwork he is behind on and wanted me to let you know that if you need him for anything else, he and I can make ourselves available to you."

Chief Bogo waved off the woman's offer to take up more cases. While her work ethic was impressive, he didn't want to push her too far... or have her show up anyone else again so soon. "Well, you did far more than what was expected of you, far faster too... and the most humiliating job that we had, although someone had to... do... it..." he trailed off as he looked at one of the reports in particular. "Huh... how about that..." he murmured, more to himself than the fox.

Watching as the African buffalo studied one of her case reports the woman raised an eyebrow in speculation. "Is something wrong?" She queried, genuinely curious as to what about that one report caught the man's attention.

"Nothing much, Officer Fox. You just happened to bust the nephew of the head of the River Bank over in the Canal District." He gave her a dry smirk as she groaned in response, realizing once again politics became involved. "Yes, I believe this one will conveniently... _disappear_."

Her ears flattening back, the Latina vixen let off a sigh. "Well that's just lovely..." Carmelita grumbled. Oh, she just knew this was going to come back to bite her in the tail!

Seeing the look of dread on his subordinate's face, the cape buffalo snorted. "You're actually very lucky in that regard, Officer Fox. Mrs. Harriet Beaver is likely to be more pissed at her nephew Jack than she is at you," the large and muscular prey mammal told her in all seriousness. "I mean it, you are genuinely _**lucky**_. If it had been anyone else on the City Council who had family busted by you, you could bet your fluffy orange tail they'd be up in arms to run you out of Zootopia by this time tomorrow."

That explanation made the vixen woman blink her eyes in shock as they penetrated her skull. "Wait... the City Council is involved? Again!?"

Nodding his head, the horned herbivore replied, "Yes, **again**. I can appreciate you doing your job but you need to be more careful. These mammals will take things personally, especially the Party Heads. So we'll just put this single report into the shredder and release the young Mr. Beaverton and let him be on his way... a gentle slap on the wrist and a reminder that sex is an arrangement between legally married mammals."

Huffing in annoyance at what was going to happen, the vulpine shook her head in disgust at what was going on between the Police Department and City Hall. "Seems awfully corrupt to me..." she murmured irritably.

Shrugging his shoulders in agreement with her, all Chief Bogo could tell her was, "Zootopia is a sovereign city-state. As such, the members of the City Council and their families can make and break the rules on a whim whenever they please, so long as their crimes remain within the realm of being misdemeanors." Letting off a sigh, the man went on to share, "I can't tell you how many times one of the Punjob family has been pulled over for speeding, only to be told to be careful with, 'breaking in new shoes'... and they don't even wear shoes!"

Tilting her head to the left, the female red fox looked at her superior with a curious gaze as she considered that bit of information. "...Punjob?" She chirruped, confusion prevalent in her voice.

"Yes, Punjob. Be wary for your sanity, thought. It's **always** a punny time around them." The African buffalo shook his head as the canid cop groaned. "They're well known for making puns no matter the situation or the appropriateness thereof."

Tilted her head to the right next, the vulpine woman raised one of her navy blue eyebrows high enough that it disappeared into her hairline. "Sounds like a rather annoying group," she said sternly, remembering how many times she wanted to simply punch one Dimitri Lousteau in his big fat mouth every time the lizard blurted out some mangled jive talk or pun-laden phrase... which more often than not, was also mangled from him getting it wrong.

The Chief of the Zootopia Police Department let off a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, you have **no** idea..." he trailed off with a tone that conveyed a long time spent suffering under such. "And we can't do a thing about them. They are one of the families of Zootopia; they and the Golden Palm are practically synonymous with the Sahara Square District. They are, 'celebutants' who know how to flaunt their local fame and even greater family fortune."

Nodding her head, Carmelita was getting a picture of what was going on all too clearly. "So basically, unless they do something that actually counts as an outright felony, our paws are tied." It wasn't a question.

"More or less," the horned herbivore replied in a solemn tone. "When it comes to the Punjobs, particularly the few instances we actually had to make arrests, we brought them in, apologized profusely for the inconvenience, and then let them go after they had a chance to sober up." At the look the Hispanic vulpine gave him, the chief explained, "Even if they are that important, we can't let them drive drunk." Thankfully no one got fired for having to do that as of yet.

Taking a deep breath, Officer Fox slowly exhaled, trying to keep herself calm. "Lovely..." she mumbled in annoyance that so many mammals could get away with such. "Can you make sure I get a file on the, 'who's-who' around here so I can study up on them?" Although she made it sound like she wanted to keep them in mind so she wouldn't cross them, the vixen personally wanted it to know who she should be keeping a close eye on.

The muscular mammal nodded his head. "If you want, I can have it ready for before you leave," he told Carmelita before a smirk came across his face. He was then quick to ask the vulpine woman, "You said McHorn was free for use if needed, right?" As the female red fox nodded her head, the African buffalo told her, "Well there you are. Tell him he's needed to make a list for you." At the curious look that crossed the Officer Fox's features, the Chief of Police explained, "He may not look it but Officer McHorn is a long-standing veteran of the force; twenty years of dutiful service and counting. We worked alongside one another quite a bit before I ended up becoming chief of the ZPD. It's why I chose him to partner up with you; I knew I could trust the mammal to ignore any preconceived notions he might have and take the job seriously."

That explanation certainly caught the Latina beauty's attention. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed it." Then again, the rhino did look that much older than that Teddy guy she busted yesterday... and Teddy couldn't have been more than somewhere between eighteen and twenty-years-old. The vulpine just wouldn't have guessed her fellow officer to be over the hill.

"Yes, he is. Just don't bring that little fact up to him," the cape buffalo insisted as he began to try and neatly stack her written reports. "Now go get out of here and take care of it," Bogo said as his eyes gazed down at the papers once more. "In fact, you can take the rest of the day off if you need to. I feel if you went back out there, we would have another thirty arrests and so much paperwork that the damned tree-huggers would be swarming the place."

"You could always just make a call," Carmelita smirked at him, getting an annoyed look in return.

"Ha... Ha... Ha..." the Police Chief laughed out sarcastically even as his eyes looked down at the landline with an accusatory glance. Turning his attention back to the vixen he added in a commanding tone, "I mean it. Go see McHorn and tell the man the Chief wants him to update you on the, 'untouchables' of Zootopia." Then as an afterthought, the horned herbivore added, "And Officer Fox? One last thing..."

Tilting her head back to look up at the much larger prey mammal, the Hispanic red fox replied, "Yes, Chief?"

"Before you go see Officer McHorn? Head back to the locker and put on some Gouda-darned **pants**!" Chief Bogo snapped. He didn't want her giving the men any ideas! Some of these brain-dead idiots could barely function as is! If she got their testosterone pumping no one was getting any work done!

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 **Author's Notes** : Good lord, this chapter wasn't easy. Not because I didn't know what I wanted... it's just actually getting the time to write proved to be way more difficult these past couple of weeks than a number of the previous months. I was literally writing up to 11 pm Friday night for this to get it out when I promised, so please forgive any typos I may have missed. 

But hey! We have more Honey Badger! It's been awhile since she had a bit of page-time so I felt now was as good a point as any to give her the spotlight once more.

On a lighter note, I made it to the Zootopia Movie Meet-Up on Saturday the 27th. Got to spend time with Radman404 of the fic, "Hopps and Robbers", YFWE of the fic, "The Redemption of Gideon Grey" Andy Lagopus, the head of the ZNN website, and many other Zootopia fans! We barely watched the movie at all, as we all knew it by heart at this point, although we had fun pointing out things to one another that we may have missed. It was just relaxing being able to shoot the breeze with people who held a common interest.

As for the story itself... sorry to say, Cerberusx but you called it. Fortunately, Carmelita knows how to handle herself as long as she's free to do her job.

Now then, if all goes well, the next chapter will be September 17th! Hope you all keep reading and enjoying!

And remember, Try Everything!

Yes, that does include Burger King hotdogs.


	11. Fought the Law

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 11: Fought the Law

There was no argument that being an officer of the law was a high-stress job so to remain at his best for any emergency that might crop up, one Officer Patrick McHorn found he needed a moment of calm now and then to focus his thoughts and feelings. So when it came to relaxing, the rhinoceros found that there were three things a mammal needed more than anything else to actually try to unwind while working in the hectic atmosphere that was the Zootopia Police Department.

First and foremost, one needed a decent Gouda-darned chair! Even if the job kept him highly mobile, the horned herbivore found himself sitting in a chair more than any other aspect of work, whether it was sitting at a set of controls, behind a wheel, or working on the most tedious aspect of being a police-mammal: filling out the tedious amounts of police reports and other assorted paperwork. Sure, a number of his fellow officers at the ZPD had a wide assortment of oddities they sat on, including swivel stools and knee chairs for those with lengthy tails and a few animals whose posture was ailing them even had aerobic balls to relax upon, just to name a few of the items used for sitting down. But for Patrick, he was happy to have a decently cushioned chair that was actually wide enough to fit even his, 'wide load' as some of the junior officers referred to it behind his back.

Secondly, was an item the polar bear Officer Yohan Andersen had suggested to him: go out and purchase a portable fan. Even with the normally dependable air-conditioning the building had with its central air system, there were times where one needed to quickly cool down from a long day on the beat, especially if they had been stuck working the _**Sahara Square District**_. The use a small portable fan aided the massive rhino in maintaining a comfortable temperature, which allowed him to remain at ease even when he was stuck at his desk for long hours. The one the herbivore had ran quietly and circulated the air quite nicely.

Finally and most importantly... was a decent cup of coffee. Police were no strangers to coffee, the drink having long-since become a staple in the war against crime. Shoot, even Officer Benjamin Clawhauser at the front desk kept himself topped off with that large pink, 'I Heart Gazelle' mug of his. It was an experience of sensations that could ease the mind and soul before invigorating the body with a jolt of caffeine. There was the soothing aroma that would find its way through one's nasal passage before seeping throughout the lungs with a silken caress, the warm tingling it left along the tongue as it slipped down past the ever-welcoming throat, and the satisfaction that could not be described as no words in any language on earth had been invented that matched the sheer level of the appeasement, enlightenment, and joy it brought.

And that was how the rhinoceros policeman was enjoying his break from his paperwork: a cup of coffee as he leaned back in a chair while he had his fan on high, blowing air on him. A look of utter content was plastered over his face as he seemed to have zoned out on everything that was going on in the world around him, he and his cubicle the only things that existed...

At least until the sound of a hand knocking on the frame gently spurred the thick-skinned herbivore back to reality. Opening one of his brown eyes, his gaze was drawn to the opening of his workspace. Catching sight of the female red fox garbed in the standard-issue police uniform of pants, utility belt, shirt, and Kevlar belt–along with a Kevlar vest and bracers that were sized for her as well as a pair of steel-toed boots that looked suspiciously like real leather–instead of the outfit she had been given for the prostitution sting, the man reached his right hand out to his desk. Setting down his half-empty mug of coffee, he then turned his chair about to face the woman standing there. "Ah, Officer Fox. Come in, come in and take a seat," he said as he then made a beckoning motion with his right hand to show her it was okay to enter his office space.

Nodding her head towards the much larger mammal, the Latina vulpine replied, "Gracias, Officer McHorn." The woman then stepped past the entrance and into his space proper, her head turning left and right as she looked for anywhere she could settle down. Catching sight of a small swivel stool in the corner that seemed to be sized for smaller animals–one she assumed the man had for in any instances he needed to talk to any civilians in semi-privacy–the woman made her way over to it and set herself atop the piece of furniture.

Seeing the small predator get herself settled on the seat, the rhinoceros turned his own chair again, putting his back to the entrance of his cubicle so he could face the smaller policewoman completely. "Now then, what brings you here?" He smirked. "If you've come to help me out with the paperwork, I'd gladly accept it... but I'm almost done with the reports as it is. I only have one more to go and then I can see what else the chief has for me to do."

Nodding her head, the vixen replied, "Actually that **is** part of why I'm here." Seeing both the larger herbivore's eyebrows rise up in surprise, Carmelita continued to explained, "I'll start off with asking this: is the last report you have to fill out Mr. John Beaverton?"

His hands coming together and resting atop his abdomen, the rhino gave her a firm nod of his head. "Why yes, actually. His is the last report I need to fill out. Why do you ask?" He asked with an inquisitive tone to his voice, although the veteran officer already had an idea of what she was about to tell him.

Sighing, the Latina red fox confirmed his suspicion when she replied, "Don't bother. Chief Bogo's already throwing that arrest out and erasing it from the record."

Closing his eyes, the horned herbivore's chest expanded considerably as he inhaled through his nostrils. Taking a moment more to exhale slowly through his mouth, the larger mammal finally replied, "I thought he looked too familiar for comfort." Shifting his weight around in his seat to get comfortable once again, the taller animal continued with, "Let me take a wild guess: he's one of Councilwoman Beaver's kin, right?" The sarcastic tone in his voice proved he already had an idea as to who they had arrested.

"Yes, he's one of her nephews," the vulpine replied, the distaste she had for the situation obvious in her tone. "So, as I said... he's being let off the hook. The department is going to apologize for the inconvenience and we're going to pretend this never happened."

Nodding his head in understanding, the horned herbivore said, "I figured as much; part of why I saved his report for last." At least now he hadn't wasted his time writing it up. "So what's up? Does the Chief have another assignment for us to keep us out of the way when that Kenneighdy-wannabe comes around to spring her family so we don't get in trouble?"

Looking up to meet his brown eyed gaze with her own chocolate-toned orbs, the navy blue-tressed vulpine officer replied, "That's actually part of the reason I'm here." Watching as the larger mammal leaned forward in his seat to give her his full attention, she went on to explain, "We've also happened to get so much done today that Chief Bogo is letting us have the rest of the day off." Seeing a genuine look of surprise cross the man's features, the woman realized this wasn't an everyday occurrence. Giving him a moment to process that but of info, the female fox then went on to add, "However before we can take off, the Chief wants you to fill me in on the so-called, 'untouchables' of Zootopia... I think he's worried that I might get in trouble if I keep crossing certain mammals' paths again and again when they pretty much have free reign."

Shrugging his shoulders in acceptance, the horned herbivore replied, "Sure. I have no problem with that. Just give me a moment," he murmured as he turned his chair about to face his desk. Opening the main drawer above his lap, the police officer took hold of a couple of sheets of paper on the top of the small stack he had inside for immediate use before closing it shut before reaching out towards one of the few mugs he had on his desk. Retrieve a pen from the group of such writing implements that were stuffed into one mug that had the image of a four-leaf clover, a heart, and a lollipop after the old phrase for good luck of, 'Love, Luck, and Lollipops' the rhino began to make a few experimental lines on one of the sheets of paper with his pen to make sure it worked. Once he had the pen working with its black ink coming out strong, he flipped the paper over to start writing anew. "Now then, where do you want us to start?"

"From the top and work our way down," the vixen replied in all seriousness.

"All right then..." the rhino murmured as he wrote, 'City Council' at the top of the page before going down to write names. "Now, I take it you want to know about the big guns first, that means you're talking about the guys at the top of the political food-chain, right?" The police-mammal queried as she looked at the vixen through the corner of his eye.

The vulpine gave a single nod of her head in response. "Please. I mean, they're the ones that could make my life a living hell on a whim for the most minor of slight. That includes real or imagined," Carmelita muttered in irritation.

Watching the canid cop cross her arms over her chest in a show of annoyance, Officer McHorn nodded his head in agreement to her sentiment. "Quite so, Officer Fox. In fact, I can safely say that unless they've committed a major felony or a federal offense, they're untouchable." Then after a moment, he added, "Just like any other major politician across this planet." The rhinoceros shook his head in disgust. "Which means to start off with, you need to stay away from the Party Heads. For the Conservative side of things, we have Mr. Jumbo Loans... nice enough guy, really. Big elephant but he's getting on in years. No surprise really, considering he's been at this for damn near sixty years!" The horned herbivore spoke up. "His last big hoorah was in the mid-Nineties when he was the one to write up the Saddle Arabian Peace Accord that was signed by both then-Mayor Gerald Hippopottus and Lord Kahmal Punjob the Second who was the Representative for OPEC. He helped bring the oil barons into the city and helped the camels make the Sahara Square District into what it is today. In return, they got him a sweet gig at the bank Sahara Savings, which he currently works as the president of. Yeah, overall he's a big name with big bucks."

Raising an eyebrow at that, the vulpine woman couldn't help but feel a bit of hope. "So... you're saying he's **not** the kind of animal who would hold a grudge for an honest mistake then?"

"Not at all, but you know how it is; he's the sort that follows the, 'good ol' boy' system and fell into quite a bit of cronyism as he got older. It was just easier for him than trying to fight against the tide of popular opinion any longer." The rhino shook his head in disgust at that as the woman nodded in understanding. "It's just how it is. Playing politics while controlling the money..."

"And money is what controls the politics and politicians..." Carmelita sighed, idly remembering seeing a video that came out around the time that the entire Western economy nearly collapsed a few years ago about how banks and money lenders kept any meaningful money reform from happening. "Who's next? And please, let's stay with the same party for now."

That request caught Patrick off-guard. He had intended to start her off with both the big guys but if she wanted to stay with party-lines, then he would oblige her. Such would probably help her keep track of things. So turning his pencil over and rubbing out Hornaday's name, he began to write in another of the members of Zootopia's Conservatives. "After him, the most powerful member of the Right in Zootopia would be Ronald O'Hoggish. He's a self-made mammal in every sense of the word. Starting out with a small loan from his father, he began the Piggy Bank in the Downtown District two decades ago. He had the bright idea of actually catering to the predator population who had been all but an untapped market up to when the Tame collars came off. With his business being the first financial institution in the city to accept carnivorous mammals as clients, he was getting them from all over the city." The police officer frowned. "Heads-up though, in coming from a highly devout Christian background he has **a lot** of family and you might find yourself running into someone of the O'Hoggish clan more often than you might think; either in name or married into the family."

Looking over at the rhino with a raised eyebrow, the vulpine twitched slightly as she could only _imagine_ just how large a group that was overall. "Oh joy..." Carmelita deadpanned, that was going to be fun if she ran into them. "Still, I suppose I should have **som** e home. I mean from what you're saying, it sounds like he can at least put aside his biases if he's willing to at least cater to animals he doesn't like."

"He's a typical Conservative: doesn't believe in big government and prefers to have things done on a personal level," Officer McHorn explained to her. "Although we both know..."

The Latina vulpine cringed at what the larger herbivore was implying. "That it's probably just a public face," she offered. Getting a nod of confirmation from her fellow officer, the female red fox let off a small sigh. "All right, I get it... so who's next in line for the Right side of things?"

"The last of the Conservatives–in name–on the council would be none-other than Mr. Edward Velveteen," the rhinoceros policeman replied. "Despite being an Arctic hare, he's a surprisingly low-key individual. Really bucks a lot of the usual rabbit stereotypes. For example, while he's married, he's kept the number of children to a very conservative number: three. Both of the eldest sons are of driving age but they tend to stick to jetting around on snowmobiles in the Tundratown District. So unless you're stationed there for assignment don't expect to see them anywhere else in the city. Besides that though, he keeps himself and his family well-fed and cared for hence why a bit of his rotund shape is more than thick winter fur. If you haven't noticed the trend yet, then here it is: like the other two he is also the president of a banking firm. In this case, it's the aptly named, 'Snow Bank'. The bank specializes in the care of frozen assets in both figurative and literal sense of the term."

The vixen considered that for a moment, taking in the fact that he seemed to be a rather private individual. "Sounds promising. Who's next?" Carmelita had nothing to say about that one as–other than an unusually small family size for a lapin–Velveteen didn't seem too interesting.

 _Which likely means he's more dangerous than you think_ , a small part of the Latina fox's psyche harshly reminded her internally. After all, Officer Fox knew from personal experience that it was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

Not noticing the woman's internal struggle on the concept of how to classify the lagomorph bureaucrat, the uniformed rhino continued, "While that's it for the members of the Zootopia Conservative Party on the Town Council, you should know there is, however, one more member that does have a rather Right-oriented leaning. That would be the single Independent candidate: Mr. Kahmal Punjob the Third. He's the eldest son of the same Punjob that turned Sahara Square into the golden wonderland you see today. After his father's passing a few years back to lung cancer, he took over the Golden Palm Hotel and has continued to be racking in money from the hotel's rooms, amenities, and services. He might not be running a bank but you can be damn certain he's making it." Taking a deep breath, the larger officer than warned the smaller predator, "There are two things you need to be careful of concerning him. First off, he is a speed demon; can't seem to take his foot off the pedal. So if you see a bright red luxury vehicle careening down the road in speeds that far outstrip the posted limit, the odds are two-to-one that it's him. Secondly..." he cringed. "The guy just won't stop making those Gouda-darned awful puns! They're simply _**terrible**_!"

The Hispanic vixen continued to stare at the taller mammal for a moment, her mind slowly processing what she'd been told. When it came down to it, one thing in particular stood out to the Inspector from Interpol. "...Punjob?" The vulpine officer queried, having trouble believing someone actually had a name like that. "Punjob?" She repeated. At the man's nod, the woman replied, "Dios mio, that's a terrible name. Seriously, how does that even happen? Did his ancestors work as court jesters and make puns for their jobs or something?"

Blinking his eyes a couple of times, the large African mammal considered that for a moment. "...That... that might be the first time someone came up with a legitimate reason as to why his name is Punjob..." Patrick murmured as he brought a hand up, idly scratching his chin. "Either way, because of his family's history with Mr. Loans, the elephant is in tight with the family. It's why despite being official part of the Zootopia Independence Party, the camel is more conservative-minded than he lets on. His business both makes money and nets him quite a bit of popularity with the locals, and he intends to keep it that way."

Carmelita shrugged her shoulders at that last part, not surprised that such was the humped desert animal's stance on things. Still, while the vulpine woman was grateful that the larger prey mammal was kind enough to share all this insight with her, a particular thought was tickling at the back of her mind. "Has he hit anyone with his car yet?"

"Miraculously... no," the veteran officer of the ZPD replied, sounding genuinely surprised that he could give her that answer. "If he was driving drunk, we could have at least had the ability to bring him to sober the guy up but he doesn't touch the stuff as part of his religion so..." he shrugged. "Our hands, hooves, paws, or whatever phrase you prefer... are tied."

Nodding her head slowly as she considered that about the camel, the Spanish beauty then raised her right hand and began rolling the paw on her wrist, motioning for him to continue. "So that was it for the right-leaning side of things at City Hall?"

Letting off a gruff snort, the rhinoceros nodded his head. He began to write the next section only to find he had to shake his pen; he'd been writing too fast and the ink needed a chance to well up towards the bottom. Giving a few experimental scratches, the larger mammal went back to writing. "Yep. That's it for the Conservatives... on the Liberal Party members on the City Council–which, for the record, you should know Zootopia is pretty much a two-to-one split along the part lines when it comes to the citizens in favor of the Left–we start with the top: Mr. William Hornaday."

And that simple name immediately triggered the memory the vulpine policewoman had of what happened the previous day, when Officer Fox's Inspector's Intuition was set off by that name flashing across the surface of the Mayor's phone. "Hornday!?" The vixen snapped with newfound energy. "Who is Hornaday?" She asked, sitting up on her chair. "Please, Officer McHorn! Tell me everything you know!" It could have been very important and she didn't want to be taken off-guard by _anything_!

Blinking his eyes at the much smaller woman's outburst, the much larger rhino was taken aback by her commanding insistence. Managing to straighten out his thoughts, Patrick began to carefully explain, "He is what some animals would say is the true leader of city. He is the Head of the Zootopia Liberal Party but more importantly he is the President of the City Council by the merit of the final vote tally. It's really of no surprise to the locals he managed it. Along with the Woolworths and the Slothmans, the Hornadays were one of the founding families of Zootopia, in their case they were also founders of the Zootopia National Bank, the first and oldest financial institution in the city, right here in Savanna Central."

The vixen nodded her head slowly, now realizing why such a name could trigger her senses, despite such minimal knowledge going into this situation. "So he's a major player in all of this?" He had to be. Her ingrained ability of Inspector's Intuition was odd like that, often triggering on clues or aspects of life she realized a normal animal wouldn't give second thought to... but everything it did was important in one way or another.

"The biggest," Patrick replied. "He's also been at this for a long time too; like Mr. Loans, he's been at this for sixty years! Going back that far, you'll find that the antelope and his father were some of the mammals that aided the institution of the Tame Collar Initiative back in the Fifties. Heck, his family personally funded it the first two years... they also got a major tax write-off for doing so too, if I'm not mistaken," he added as an afterthought.

And from that little bit, the vulpine policewoman was already getting a solid idea of just what kind of animal this Hornaday was. "So... his old man and him had the shock collars put on predators then?" She asked with a visible grimace. After seeing all those pictures Bentley put together for her, it wasn't something she liked to think about.

The man's left ear twitched as if swatting at a fly. "For the record, it's taboo to refer to the things outright as, 'shock collars'. The locals prefer to call them by the name of, 'Tame collars'. But besides that... Well yeah! It was pretty much the Hornadays that spearheaded it. Although the way things were, it was the sheep bureaucrats on both sides of the political spectrum that got the blame for it because they were the majority of the party leaders and politicians in power at the time, even though such had been instituted damn-near unanimously by the Liberal Party as a whole..." the larger horned mammal explained. He had to shrug his shoulders for a moment, loosing up the joins as he went back to writing the list. "It's probably why the current members of the Left are the ones in particular who are pushing to get predators into better jobs and give them a happier lot in life... especially Mayor Lionheart with this whole Mammal Inclusion Initiative thing he got going."

"...Lovely..." Carmelita sighed. "Much like other politicians I've met like him, they push for something, get it passed and then force the blame onto whomever has the majority if blowback comes rushing back at your face." Knowing her luck, Hornaday probably preferred the state to have all the power and all the other animals to be good little worker drones who never questioned authority at all while giving the citizens the illusion of having freedom.

Nodding his head, the rhino looked at her with a somber gaze. "Yeah... trust me though, it isn't safe to talk about him or his family openly like I just did with you..." he then offered the vulpine woman a small smirk. "On the plus side? I'm not afraid to open my mouth as I'm registered on the Right and proud of it.

The vixen couldn't help but chuckled slightly at the man's rather blunt attitude towards the affairs of politicians. It was surprisingly refreshing. "So, you're one of those mammals who is into defending your right to bear arms and freedom of speech?"

"Damn right, especially bearing arms!" Patrick chirruped. If the bears could use their clawed arms, then the herbivores had to have _something_ to even the field! "Now, as for the other Leftists on the City Council, we have the newcomer Mr. Woodrow Chipper. The prairie dog comes from a long line of left-leaning large rodents who were big into public program scene back when the city was founded, the family members going from public-work to public-work until finding their niche in the 1950's. Hell, they loved the, 'Leave it to Beaver' era so much that they've been trying to instill pure Fifties American beliefs into the youth of Zootopia up this day, using childhood programs such as the Bunny Scouts and the Junior Ranger Scouts. Both programs are still going strong thanks to funding from the Chipper family through their sister loan offices of Daylight Savings and Loans in both the Downtown and Little Rodentia Districts. For once we also have someone who ISN'T the owner of their financial firm as Woodrow's father, President Flint Chipper is still well and good, making sure his son continues to follow the family legacy of a brighter, better capitalist agenda."

Mulling over that bit of information for a moment, the Latina vulpine eventually nodded her head in acceptance. "While that theoretically _sounds_ good..." and she wasn't saying it didn't, as anything to help guide children to a better tomorrow was a good thing in her book. "But, let me guess..." she raised her head up to look directly at her fellow officer. "This includes the out-and-out specism that the Fifties had as well?"

Officer McHorn twitched. "To an extent, yes," he replied in a rather guarded fashion.

The woman's jaw tightened as she felt her anxiety rise. Specism was one thing but to have it directed to children!? "To _**what**_ extent are we talking about here?" Carmelita asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that they try and drown predators or something like that."

Now the man looked particularly uncomfortable. The horned herbivore took a deep breath to not only brace himself but to give the smaller mammal a chance to brace herself as well. Finally, he began to explain, "While the Bunny Scouts have always been an upstanding organization, it was up until 2004, that predator children entering the Junior Ranger Scouts would suffer a hazing." Seeing the look of horror on her face, the man trudged on to continue, "We only found out such had been going on when the boys caused a tiger cub to slip into a coma by using a Taser on him. They claimed they didn't know it would hurt him so badly that it was a, 'Tiger Away' Taser..." he snorted. "The little idiots didn't realize that it was meant for an adult and not a cub only one-eighth the size at best." He took a deep breath. "Noticeably, once word of this hit the news, the enrollment for both those programs took a nosedive in the years that followed... and are still showing record lows."

Bringing a hand up to her face, the canid cop groaned and rubbed her forehead, feeling terrible for the child. She was honestly surprised that the predator population hadn't revolted with all of the indignities they had been forced to suffer at the paws of the prey mammals of Zootopia. "How many kids are left in these programs?"

"There are a few hundred in both the Bunny Scouts and the Junior Ranger Scouts... mind you, these programs used to be in the **thousands** ," Patrick replied firmly. "But enough about how we've been failing the children..." he murmured, trying to bury his own feelings of guilt. "Let's move onto the next rodent on the list: Mrs. Harriet Beaver." The gray-skinned mammal turned his head to look at the vulpine. "You a fan of the whole JFK Era of America? The Sixties with free move, moon landings, and all that jazz?"

Shrugging her shoulders, the orange-pelted vulpine officer replied, "Not particularly..."

"Well the Beavers sure damn do... no pun intended," he added as an afterthought. "That little rodent tries to emulate Jacqueline Kenneighdy every which way she can... and tries to act soft and sweet to everyone she meets, no matter what political party they're associated with. Harriet just has something of a motherly aura about her that is hard to ignore. It's probably what made her and her husband's business of the River Bank over in the Rainforest District so successful. She could talk anyone into taking whatever loan or mortgage deal she offers them, no matter how bad it is for them and their needs because she told them to." He shook his head as he let off a little grunt. "I tell you, I don't know if she's that way to be nice or to be devious."

"Probably both," the Interpol Inspector replied, mentally putting Mrs. Beaver _**HIGH**_ on the list of mammals to avoid angering if at all possible–if she even could, considering she had arrested her nephew earlier today. Oh yes, Carmelita had met a few criminals that were a lot like how Officer McHorn described her. Lack of evidence prevented Carm from arresting them, but they were **damn** good at convincing people to go against their best interests. Taking a deep breath, the vulpine continued to inquire, "Anyone else?"

Nodding his head, the horned herbivore replied, "Of course! Besides, 'Woody' there's another recent-comer but I tell you, I personally feel she's the worst of the whole lot. Ms. Monica Harshwhinny: President of the Zootopia branch of the international banking firm J.P. Mare-Gan and self-proclaimed premiere third-wave feminist of Zootopia."

The vulpine woman blinked her eyes once, twice, thrice. "Third-wave feminist?" She queried in confusion at such a term. "Granted I know what a Feminism is, but what is this, 'third-wave' spiel you're talking about?"

The way the other mammal groaned made the vixen realize that she wasn't going to like the answer he had for her. Slowly, his attention turned back to the much smaller carnivore cop. "Do you really need me to explain it in great detail or I can save my breath and give you the cliff notes version?" He asked hopefully.

"Cliff notes if possible," the Hispanic vulpine answered, not sure she could survive the rhino going into such promised in-depth detail either.

"Okay," Officer McHorn replied, sounding a bit relieved. "To the point, third-wave feminism claims to be about equality... but if you've ever read the book, 'Insect Farm' or heard the phrase, 'some bugs are more equal than others' line, then you know the basic idea behind it _**already**_. To quote one of their most prominent members, 'everything is specist, everything is sexist, everything is homophobic, and you have to point it all out'." He shuddered, feeling dirty at having to quote that woman.

"...What?" Was the vulpine's rather deadpan response. That was the most ludicrous statement she had ever heard in her life. "Do you mean they... actually..." she trailed off as he was already nodding. "Ugh. What else do they do? Surely there has to be _some_ silver-lining." After all, historically feminism got women the right to vote and better wages! It must have been doing something good in the modern age.

McHorn snorted. "They often say that male animals, straight male animals, and so-called 'cis'-gendered male animals have it way better than females and animals that are from national minority backgrounds."

The vixen with navy blue tresses blinked her eyes again, completely lost at all her fellow officer was telling her. "...Cyst? If there's men out there with infections, they should see a doctor if they have one of those things forming."

The silence was unnerving for the moment it existed... only for the quiet and dull noise of their surroundings to be broken as the rhino belted out with roaring laughter at that. "Oh no, no..." he replied, still chuckling. "Not cysts, Officer Fox, cis. C. I. S," he spelled out for her. "Basically if you think you're the gender you're born with."

Carmelita blinked her eyes lovely brown eyes once, twice. "...So most animals then?"

Nodding his head, the rhino firmly replied, "Yep."

"...Fun..." the Latina red fox drawled out, already guessing she wasn't going to like what she heard about Ms. Harshwhinny's chosen sub-political class.

She didn't. "You don't agree with them, you're a misogynist, even if you're a woman." He shrugged at her stupefied expression. "Don't look at me, that's just some of the things the louder part of the crowd likes to claim. If you say something that could be seen as offensive, they get upset at you, saying it's a micro-aggression or some nonsense. They also tend to talk down to anyone who doesn't hold their explicit world-views and—"

"Enough!" Carmelita snapped, interrupting the larger herbivore. "I get it, I really do. Basically, what you're telling me is that the brand of feminism ignores real oppression in order to focus on minor things and come off as hypocrites because of it, right?"

Although he was surprised to have been cut off like that, Patrick felt he couldn't really blame her. Such was a sore-point for him and when he got on the topic of the female mustang, it often became a full-on rant. "Pretty much," he continued much more calmly. "They also use a bunch of made-up terms and don't like to deal with any disagreement."

Shrugging her shoulders, the orange-pelted vixen didn't argue. Still, she couldn't help but comment, "I'm honestly surprised anyone could hold those views. Have they not been out in the real world?"

The rhino snorted at that. "Most of them are rich or fairly well-off animals who have never faced oppression and feel like they're guilty of doing so without realizing it. Whatever you do, **don't** look it up online. Trust me, you'll want to strangle someone. Just do what Officer Clawhauser does and look for cute kitten videos to pass the time." After all, everyone thought kittens were positively adorable and so many proud yuppy feline parents were into uploading phone footage of their kids.

"Thanks for the warning," the Hispanic vulpine replied as she grimaced in disgust. The mere idea animals could be that... well, that idiotic? It was just asinine. Yes, there were problems in society but treating every little thing as if it were a big deal only caused mammals to turn away from real issues and ignore them.

She wanted to use the phrase, 'the lamb who cried wolf' to describe just what would happen with such attitudes but even that much was feeling specist.

However, as the vixen tried to push thoughts of all this third-wave nonsense out of her mine, it was then another realization hit the poor woman. "Wait... did you say she's the president of the Zootopia branch of J.P. Mare-Gan?"

Nodding his head, the rhinoceros replied, "That I did. Why do you ask?"

Lowering her head in defeat, the navy blue-haired vixen could only mutter, "Crap." Taking a deep breath, the woman then spoke in a more audible voice, "That's where my bank account is tied to while I'm here in Zootopia."

"While I am tempted to say, 'sucks to be you' and leave it at that... I wouldn't worry too much if I were you," the muscular officer said in all seriousness. "Like I said, she's the bank president. They aren't known for doing much work outside of kissing up to those mammals whose accounts earn four digits in monthly interest and listening to the pitches of up-and-coming business-mammals who need loans in the five digits-and-up range. I doubt she would come down from her office just to give you hell: you're a woman! Sure, she might be cross about you spreading a better message of equality and **NOT** being a prey mammal while doing so but your gender might get you a pass."

Slowing inhaling a breath for a moment, the Hispanic cop filled her lungs before exhaling in an effort to calm herself down. "Let's hope so," she finally replied to the ZPD veteran that was giving her a hand in getting caught up with the major players of the city. "Just please tell me she doesn't have kids..."

That got a snort of laughter from the larger rhino. "Believe me, if she did, there would be a fund to get the guy and kids out of Zootopia." He replied seriously. "And finally when it comes to the City Council, there is one more I should mention... although I believe you've met him already."

Carmelita frowned at how the horned mammal phrased that, already getting a feeling as to who the large herbivore was referring to. "Lionheart?" She offered in response, the woman's disgust for the mane-adorned feline rather evident in her voice.

Chuckling a bit at the woman's... _enthusiasm_... the larger officer replied, "Got it in one. He's the low-mammal on the political totem pole. While he holds a lot of power outwardly and in such a lofty position that makes him the face of Zootopia, he only has as much power as the City Council allows him because he didn't have the most votes. As I mentioned earlier, that honor went to Mr. Hornaday. Honestly, a lot of us in the know figured he got in on being the token predator. He's the first to actually attain the office of Mayor but he had a lot of help and backing from his partners to get there. No surprise, really when you consider that the prey animals in this city outnumber the predators nine-to-one. As such, there had been nervous rumbling in the city as of late and they figured they would settle things by showing the citizens and the world, 'look how progressive we are: we elected a lion'." The rhino snorted in annoyance. "Big fat hairy deal if you ask me."

"...You know, after hearing about Ms. Harshwhinny, I almost feel sorry for him." The vulpine could only imagine what kind of hell she put him through if he had to brown-nose her and the rest of the City Council.

"Believe me, I'm certain she's annoyed they couldn't get a lioness or some other majestic female predator," he said in understanding to what the smaller carnivore was getting at. "Anyway those are the untouchables overall but there are a few other names to watch-out for... and yes, it's nearly all bankers. You've got Misters Lawrence, Leonard, and Landon Lemming of the Lemming Brothers Bank in the Downtown District and their giraffe neighbor Mr. Long Term, president of the FURS National Bank. And speaking of families, you've also got the sisters Miss Janine, Miss Clarice, and Miss Kenda Bonnét and their married sibling and brother-in-law Mr. & Mrs. Sycamore and Diana Flopsy of the Borrow Burrow; a lending firm set up in the very southern area of Savanna Central. There's Ms. Winona Wideload who is president of Hippo Loans in the Canal District and let me tell you, she's a doll. Then you have the Very Small Business Administrations in Little Rodentia that is seen to by Mr. Mortimer Mouse and his very, **very** large family... in numbers not their physical size," he made sure to differentiate. "There's also Mr. Jonathan Molasses, President of the Slothman Brothers Savings Bank over in the Rainforest District. There's Carmine "Chuckles" Gulo, the wolverine being a so-called, 'completely legitimate business-mammal'. Of course, I can't forget to mention Officer Pennington's brother, Mr. Jerry Jumbeaux Jr. of the Jumbeaux Ice-Cream Parlor..." he murmured, the gray-skinned mammal writing as quickly as he could. "And then finally..." the rhinoceros frowned. "There are two particular business-mammals you need to steer clear of for your own safety!"

Needless to say, that last statement caught the Interpol-turned-ZPD officer's attention. "Who are they?" Oh yes, Carmelita was rather glad that Officer McHorn was putting together a list for her to study when this was over. _And I here thought I was done with homework when I graduated college_ , the navy blue-tressed vixen thought with a bit of annoyance tinged with nostalgia. It had been some time since she needed put her nose to the grindstone like this.

"Both of these mammals are settled in the Tundratown District and have something of a rivalry going, even though it's obvious the larger of the two has no interest in playing turf-wars. The latter I am referring to is Mr. Kozlov Kholodno aka, 'Mr. Cold'... he runs the off-the-records loan office known as, 'Zootenial'... a business firm that has been known to cause great bodily harm to animals if not make them outright disappear if they don't keep up with repaying their loans in a timely manner." The horned herbivore frowned. "The actual amount of money if not resources Mr. Kholdono has access to is something that has been a bit difficult for the department to discern as the polar bear runs two other successful legitimate businesses. The first is, 'Kozlov's Place' a small carnivore-centric Russian-style restaurant and bar. It's always a tough crowd in there too; a lot of ursine former Spetsnaz usually hang out there. The second is the Snow Palace Hotel, the premiere resort stay in the Tundratown District. As with the Councilman Punjob and the Golden Palm, the Snow Palace has a floor that serves as Kozlov's private residence."

Bringing a hand up to the side of her head, Officer Fox rubbed at her left temple. "Lovely..." she murmured sarcastically. It wasn't like she was a wide-eyed idealist who thought cops should arrest all criminals. That wasn't possible. Heck, as much as she hated it, some organized crime bosses did make cities a better place to live by taking the undesirables off of the streets and into their organizations while letting the citizens build up a decent living for themselves, even though the criminals ran everything...

...

... _I've_ _ **definitely**_ _been hanging around Sly and the others for too long if I'm genuinely thinking like that_ , the canid woman thought irritably as she then also brought her right hand up to the other side of her head. "And the other?" The Latina vulpine asked aloud before lowering both her paws and giving her fellow officer her full attention once more.

Nodding his head, the horned mammal continued to explain, "The other is one is the known Mafia boss, Don Antonio Corleone Grandé... or as he's more commonly know, 'Mr. Big'."

Needless to say, that caught Carmelita's attention. "Mr. Big?" She chirruped in surprise, feeling as though a ball of lead were forming in the pit of her stomach. "This Mr. Big wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the Tundratown Limo-Service, would he?"

Blinking his eyes in surprise that his fellow officer already had an idea of the rodent, Patrick gave a nod of his head in confirmation as he replied, "The very same! That's the legitimate business the Arctic Shrew funnels his own likely illicit funds through."

Bringing a hand up and smacking herself on the face, the orange-pelted vixen groaned in aggravation. Well, that was just **peachy**! The first friend she actually made around here was working for a local crime boss. "Oh Renato, what have you gotten yourself into..." she muttered under her breath.

Raising an eyebrow, the large and bulk prey mammal looked down at the female red fox in concern. "Did you say something?" He wasn't going to go prying per se but the rhino was going to offer the vulpine a chance to open up to him if she wanted to.

She didn't. "Nothing important," was Carmelita's guarded reply. She just hoped that Mr. Manchas only did business for his boss that was on the up-and-up and was never asked to do anything on the illegal side of things.

Staring at the woman a moment more, the rhinoceros finally gave her a nod of his head in acceptance, realizing he wasn't going to get much more out of the woman on that. "Anyway, Mr. Big has had a rivalry with Mr. Kholodno since the Arctic shrew set up shop there. There is word from trusted sources that the polar bear was part of the Bratva–the Russian Mafia–before he retired and made his way to Zootopia. Apparently Mr. Big doesn't want to take the chance that this guy isn't going to one day give him problems and has been trying to start trouble with the much larger mammal. As is stands both employ a good deal of the polar bear population in Tundratown in one form or another so you're not likely to find help from the locals should something go down and you need witnesses to make arrests or even find out what the heck happened." He frowned. "For example, we've had more than one instance of no one knowing how or any idea why a frozen corpsicle ended up beneath the ice in the District's public skating rink. Even relatives of the deceased would remain close-lipped."

"...Oh joy..." the canid beauty groaned out in response. She had dealt with similar situations before in her career. It was always a pain to find evidence to stick on someone one way or another when the locals were unhelpful or even went as far as to actively impede an investigation. "Funny, Zootopia never mentioned it had a healthy gang-war brewing in any of the public brochures," she bit out sarcastically.

"Because it's **not** what City Hall considers active," McHorn stated firmly. "A lot of the bad blood is strictly on Mr. Big's side of things... the little bugger has trying to goad ol' Mr. Cold into have once icy throw-down for control of the District but the bear won't bite. The Little Rodentia District wasn't big enough for the damned shrew and now he intends to aim for much loftier goals." Turning his seat to face the vixen, the rhino put his hands to his belt, taking a stance of an Old West gun-mammal. "Cold, I'mma callin' ya out! This town here ain't big enough for the both of us!" Patrick said, using his best John Mayne impression, knowing that it was something the legendary actor would have done in any one of his Spaghetti Western movies.

Although she rolled her eyes at what the herbivore was trying to do, the Latina vixen still shook her head good-naturedly. "Stick to the police-work, Officer McHorn. Impressions ill-suit someone such as you..." she trailed off, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Nice try, though."

His nostrils flaring as he gave a snort in return, the muscularly bulky mammal replied, "I thought it was _damn good_." He then reached his left hand over to the desk and picked up the paper. "Anyway, here you go, Officer Fox," he said, changing the subject as he then leaned over in his seat and outstretched his hand, offering the paper to her. "A list of who's-who in Zootopia... patent-pending." He added with a small smirk.

Nodding her head as she reached out with her own arm, the woman looked up to meet her fellow officer's eyes. "Thank you. This will make things easier for me," Carmelita said as she took the list. Giving it a once more, the vulpine woman nodded her head and began folding it as she stood up from the stool. "Again, thank you for your hard work, Officer McHorn," the vixen said gratefully as she slipped the paper into her back pocket. "As for me, I'm going to head home, unwind for a bit, and read over this tonight."

He smiled in return. "And thank you for helping us attain so many collars that the Chief is actually letting us go early," he barked out with a hearty laugh. "Now we both of us better clear out! The longer we end up hanging around, the more likely the Chief will find something else for us to do."

"Right," the vixen with navy blue-tresses replied as she brought her right hand up to the side of her head, giving her fellow officer a salute before heading out of his cubicle and into the police station proper, taking the shortest path she could think of that would lead her back to the parking garage. Everything was becoming second nature to her from how many times she kept going back and forth around the building and the red fox was coming to recognize faces along with the layout.

Such as how she made certain to wave good-day to Officer Clawhauser as she passed the front desk on her way down the stairs to make her way to the building's rear entrance on the ground floor.

Upon reaching her custom Humvee police cruiser, the female red fox made certain check mirrors before buckling her seatbelt. As she turned the key and pulled out of her spot and eventually out of the parking garage all together, the canid cop let off a sighing as she drove down the busy streets of Zootopia. Although she was paying attention to traffic, Carmelita couldn't help but think back to everything she had learned from Officer McHorn. "Sometimes I almost wish I was German. At least then I could get away with saying, 'Mein Gott' in frustration." She chuckled to herself as she tried to let the stress bleed away.

Granted, she was Spanish and so she had a whole other lexicon of curse words and bad phrases she could tear into to portray her full level of annoyance... but before she could express some rather colorful words that some of the locals would consider exotic, the woman's radio crackled to life with Dispatch reporting something about a 10-90 in progress, making the vulpine beauty realize she had forgotten to turn it off. "Oh what now..." she murmured as she went to hit the button and get further information.

Sure, she may have been done for the day but as she had come to learn from her years following Cooper around: crime never slept.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zootopia was a thriving metropolis that had a distinct advantage over many of the Zoonited States' largest cities by having direct ties to Saddle Arabia for fixed oil prices. With cheaper fuel and thus cheaper shipping, the overall costs in the city were kept down to affordable measures even as inflation and the strengthening of the gold coin standard began to ruin the value of the dollar over the rest of the country. This allowed many enterprising mammals of the city to continue on with a, 'business as usual' agenda to expand and employ a work-force to keep the local economy stable and thriving. As long as the cash could keep flowing into the pockets of the Zootopia citizens rather than into the price of shipping the goods about in an efficient manner, the city-state maintained a strong level of clout on the stage of the world–even with recent shake-ups caused by the Mammal Inclusion Initiative as of late.

However, it should be noted that it wasn't just the major retailers and their customers that found great benefits in the low costs that were brought on by cheap gasoline. Local street-vendors could find themselves making a decent buck if they were savvy enough as well as the local discount store. These smaller retail stores had all the benefits of the big chains and could sell their products at even lower prices than even the typical discounted market value. As such, Zootopia, while giving high praise to brand names in both its bright lights and larger-than life advertising, was itself simply lousy with full-line discount store or 'mass merchandisers': the establishments of small business mammals that offered a wide assortment of goods with a focus on price over their appearance, quality service, and variety choice.

That included the Downtown District's infamous, 'Cash Cow Super Store'. Built into the remains of a former gas station, it was a schlock house of the so-called highest caliber, it was a place filled with cheap and inferior goods; some would even go as far as to say the place was filled with outright trash. However, what gave the place its infamy was not the fact that it was pretty much undercutting everyone other business by selling its merchandise for pennies on the dollar, but the fact that it catered to those who were considered the dregs of Zootopian Society. This was a place that thrived on the untapped market of undesirable predators: rats, skunks, raccoons, possums, hyenas, weasels, and–of course–foxes. It gave these otherwise ignored if not despised mammals a place to go to get what they needed without having to face the usual specism they would be forced to deal with in the rest of the city.

And today, the red fox Nicholas Piberius Wilde and his partner-in-somewhat crime the fennec Finnick Zerdan were doing just that! It was their first day off since they began working for one Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox, the vulpine woman finally not having had a need for the local pair. Before the policewoman came along, free time usually meant it was time to begin a new hustle... but now? They needed to do some shopping of their own. After all, they had gotten paid and paid **well**! The duo had more cash than usual burning a hole in their pockets and it was time to unload some of that hard-earned wealth so they could focus on earning more and saving it. One had to spend money to make money, after all. It was how things had always been with the pair and once their current meal ticket headed back to Europe, they were going to need everything they got from her to go back to successfully hustling.

And yet as the red fox pushed a shopping cart that was more sized for an animal like him unlike those massive carriages at Good Migrations, the taller of the two vulpines couldn't help but gaze over his usual haunt for cheap groceries from a new viewpoint. After having been in a place that at least tried to be professional with its appearance and treatment of customers, Nick's eyes had been opened to just what he'd been putting up with for so long as part of his normal routine. The store was simply a dirty hovel and _not_ the good kind like a fox's den either. There were smudges from dirty paws all over the cracked windows and mirrors, cobwebs visible in the corners of the ceiling, a thick layer of dust that had built up on all the shelves worse than the place he went shopping for Carm, thick dirt caked into the cracks of the old floor tiles which gave them a pitch-black pattering all over, a visible film of grease on various sports across the store–again, particularly on the floor–and crumbs all over the place. To top it off, the male vulpine could see the whole idea of having as much as they could for cheap was actually a **hazard**! Cash Cow had so much crap stacked down the set of aisles and around the store that it was difficult for even smaller mammals like Finnick and himself to move around freely about!

Yes, Nick had to admit, "This place is a dump."

Standing by one of the lower shelves with a can in either hand, the desert fox's left ear raised up at that comment. "Huh?" Raising his head, the smaller of the two vulpine men turned his head to the left and looked up at his taller friend. "You say something, Wilde?"

His ears flattening back as he realized his partner had heard him talking to himself, the red fox let off a tired sigh. He leaned over the handle bars of his cart, using the plastic carriage to keep himself propped up and get comfortable. "Not much, big guy... I just can't help but think."

Rolling his eyes at that particular phrase, the smaller sandy-furred vulpine male let off an amused snort. "There you go doing that thinking stuff again," he said as he shook his head. "How many times do I have to warn you, Wilde? That's just going to get you in **trouble**."

Frowning slightly, Nick straightened up and looked down at his partner in the art of the hustle. "And there **you** go again," the pawpsicle hustler said in return. "Every time I try to bring up my feelings or at the very least question my lot in life, you—"

"Ignore it so you can maintain whatever little shreds of dignity you have left," Finnick piped up, interrupting the taller fox. He narrowed his eyes as he turned around one of the cans in his left paw, looking over the label with a scrutinizing stare. "I, on the other hand question nothing about life unless it actually affects the bottom line. For example, here's a real question for you," the smaller of the duo chirruped as he held up the can for his friend to see, revealing the smiling dolphin face on it. "I think this is tuna... how about you?" He waved the can a few times, offering it to his somewhat-friend to take from him.

Catching onto the smaller predator's attention, the taller fox reached out, taking the aluminum can from the fennec's grasp. Turning it about in both his hands, the crimson-pelted canid raised an eyebrow as he tried to make heads or tails out of it. "What does it even say on the label?"

The petite desert fox shrugged his shoulders in response to the other vulpine's inquiry. "No clue; just that it ain't English or Spanish." At the look his semi-friend gave him, the tiny carnivore defended his choice of food with, "Hey! It's got a picture of a dolphin on it! That's _usually_ an icon used as advertisement for tuna fish."

"...Well, that or an indicator that it's _made_ of dolphin..." Wilde said rather solemnly as he handed the can to the shorter fox. "Seriously, we can do better than that!" The Hawaiian shirt and tie-clad mammal stated firmly. "I mean, just because we're foxes doesn't mean we have to eat everything that is remotely edible!"

As he took the aluminum can from his illegitimate-business partner, the smaller predator used his other arm to thumb back at the sign hanging from the shelf behind him. "It's also selling at four-for-a-dollar," the fennec drawled out in his deep baritone.

Nicholas blinked his eyes once, twice. "...We'll just mix it with some shrimp-flavored instant ramen cups. The salt and artificial flavorings should be enough to hide the taste of whatever the hell is actually in these cans."

"That'a boy," Finnick chirruped as he handed the can back to the taller fox before the pair began to unload the bottom shelf of the sale item. He might not have been much for ramen but at least Wilde hadn't suggested top ramen. At least the cups offered a little more in the way of nutrition with their dehydrated and salted vegetable bits. "I'll re-teach you to shop smartly yet!"

With the shelf emptied of the four dozen cans that had been put out for a sale price, the pair pushed their cart down the aisle where the two came upon the next section of cans that _appeared_ to be another meat or meat-like product. Taking one off bottom shelf, the petite vulpine flipped it about in his paws, getting a good look at the thing. "Hey Wilde... I think I can actually _translate_ this one..." he said slowly, as it had more common alphabet letters than it did Asian markings like the four-for-one dollar cans did.

His ears perking up, the red fox couldn't help but ask, "Oh really now?" Taking a step away from the carriage, the mammal came beside his fellow shopper. Hands coming down to his thighs, he bent over, getting closer to head-height with the desert fox. "What does it say?"

Gnawing slightly on his bottom lip, the petite predator did his best to make out some of the words he knew from memory. "Well, for starters, I can make out that it contains vegetable matter–not the actual type vegetable but vegetable matter–gluten, and jellyfish."

"..." The male red fox twitched, wondering what the hell they'd been eating from this place all these years.

Seeing the hesitance in his partner's eyes, Finnick could only nod his head in agreement. "Right, let's see if we can find some gluten-free stuff," he replied as he put the can back. Like ramen cups, for example. Not like there was any gluten in those noodles. Hell, the desert carnivore was pretty certain the card-board pre-processing had more gluten... fiber too!

Realizing that he and the rest of the dregs of Zootopian society were being happily fostered with the dregs of the seven seas to get by with, Nick could admit that he wasn't feeling all that hungry anymore... and had a better understanding of just _**why**_ Bug Burga was as successful as it was. "Maybe we should leave this crap here and go to Good Migrations for—OW!" He yelped as he jumped back upon being punched in the shin by his smaller partner. "Goddamn it, Zerdan! What the hell!?" He cried out angrily, demanding to know why the little prick did that.

Turning his head to glare at the taller vulpine, the vertically-challenged carnivore snorted in annoyance. "Idiot. Working for this po-po is making you _soft_. You would have **never** turned you snout up at this before you had us become Officer Fox's errand bitches. Getting good meals regularly and getting paid well is spoiling you more rotten than the produce Cash Cow has for sale out front. It's going to make you useless for pulling cons if you start thinking inside the box like all those suckers working a nine-to-five!"

Still using his right hand to rub his shin while his left grasped firmly onto the shopping cart to keep him balanced, the taller of the two canid con-mammals glared down at the petite vulpine. "I would hardly call getting Chinese and some breakfast burritos good meals." He frowned. "And weren't **you** the one that was saying I had to eat better anyway!?"

"You can eat better without breaking the bank," the desert fox said seriously. He walked along the aisle before coming to a stop at a can with the image of a tomato on this. "See this? You don't need that brand name Lambell's when you can have a can of soup that is of the ketchup variety!"

Narrowing his eyes as he took a look at the can in his partner's paw, all the taller fox could answer was, "It actually says, 'ketchup' on it, buddy. Seriously, who the heck would put ketchup inside an aluminum can?"

His eyes gaze becoming a bit more menacing, the fennec heatedly responded, "Well it makes more sense than putting tomato sauce in a glass jar!"

"You're **still** harping on that!?" Nick cried out in exasperation as he released his leg and tentatively set it back down on the ground to support himself with. "What do you have against tomato sauce in a glass jar!?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the desert fox was now outright glaring at his taller partner.

Blinking his bright green eyes a couple of times, the red fox turned away after a moment. "... Right..." he murmured quietly. "I forgot about the time you got your head stuck in one when we were kits."

"Glass jars are the tool of the goat devil!" The vertically-challenge vulpine sneered. He then climbed up the side of the carriage and leaned over the edge and into the cart, sifting around through some of the items they had already picked up before retrieving a bottle marked with a trio of X's and pushing it into the other male fox's face. "The only glass containers you should trust are the ones that contain liquor!"

Stepping back a bit to get the bottle out of his face, the red fox was about to yell at his partner to calm down when something floating in the bottle caught his eyes. Reaching out with both his hands, he took the glass container of alcohol out of his semi-friend's paw and held it up to the flickering fluorescent bulb of the ceiling light, gazing at all the particles that were floating within. "This is either tequila... or very dirty vodka."

Again, the fennec snorted. "Newb," he said before bending over into the carriage again, searching through their groceries. "That's what the coffee filters are for." So saying, he straightened up, showing off the circular stack of white papers that were covered in a faded plastic wrapper; obviously excess merchandise from years back as it looked like it had been a name brand once upon a time.

Setting the bottle of alcohol back into the shopping cart, Nick could only mutter, "I was wondering what you wanted those for." After all, neither of them made their own coffee. Snarlbucks was about the one actual luxury they afforded themselves and so the actual implements were something that was missing from their lives. "Still, I feel we could be doing far better than this stuff..." he murmured as he looked at the wall and noticed a cockroach skittering across it... a cockroach that had a ten cent sticker plastered to its back. _Admittedly, that_ _ **is**_ _a good price for roaches_ , the red fox thought with interest. He might have not been much of a bug-eater but he could appreciate a good deal. _Big one too_.

Nodding his head as his partner understood the method behind the madness, the petite predator decided to toss Wilde a proverbial bone in return as he finally acknowledged his semi-friend's incessant whining. "We could be... but not here. Not in Zootopia." Jumping off the side of the cart and landing gracefully on his feet, the sandy-furred vulpine brought his paws up, wiping off the dust of the carriage that had gotten rubbed into his black shirt in an effort to clean up his appearance some. "But hey, it's not like this place is all bad. I mean, take a look!" He motioned towards the central area of the story that had a broken down display that had been a former greeting card rack that was filled with re-packaged magazines and coverless DVD cases. "This place sells used porn! You aren't going to find _**that**_ at Good Migrations!"

His shoulders staffing in exasperation, the red fox could only nod his head. "No, it certainly won't," Nick murmured in irritation as his emerald eyes shifted over to where the smaller vulpine was pointing at. However before he could go into a rant, he found himself genuinely surprised to see a prey mammal in the normally carnivore-centric store–although he appeared to be a tough customer nonetheless. Standing by the greeting card stand turned dirty magazine rack was a piggy patron, although the developed canine teeth that protruded from the bottom corners of his mouth were testament to the fact he was of a wild boar rather than any of his species' softer-skinned swine cousins. The Central European Boar was medium-sized in height and overly portly thanks to having a short trunk with massive pectorals that looked even larger while standing on hindquarters that were comparatively underdeveloped. He was covered in a coat of rusty-brown fur, although his short mohawk on his head and the muttonchops on the side of his face were dyed a neon-purple with pink frosted tips.

Wilde couldn't help but feel that there was something oddly familiar about the man, yet the prey mammal's choice in hair-styling was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to how much he stood out. His short and stubby legs were clad in a pair of overly baggy black cargo pants that were only held in proper place by a thick Kevlar belt; the waistband of his boxers visible above the pants. The male suidae's torso was clad in a red sleeveless vest yet he had no shirt, allowing the porcine individual to show off his rather out-of-shape physique, particularly his potbelly. He had a gold chain necklace on with a trio of pendants, a hamster skull with a pair of fangs hanging from either side of it. Such wasn't the only jewelry on the warthog though, just the only one of any worth. He had set of spiked bracelets on either of his wrists and his head was decked out in a myriad of piercings: his eyebrows, his ears, his lower lip, and one sizable nose ring.

And that was when the crimson-pelted canid saw it. He could have forgiven this mammal's crime against fashion if it hadn't been for one single thing: he was wearing a purple pair of those stupid slat visor sunglasses that were popularized by rap musician Kaninye West! It took every ounce of the vulpine's willpower to simply avert his gaze and ignore the desire to slap the porker. Not that the boar had done anything to personally offend him nor would he want to be arrested for a hate crime, but Nick could hardly stand the sight of those things. They were just so Goddamn stupid that it _physically hurt_ to actually look at them!

Raising an eyebrow at how his partner-in-conning suddenly looked as though he was physically ill, the fennec queried, "Hey! You okay there, Wilde?" He tilted his head to get a better look at the red fox from underneath. "You look like you just bit into something that disagreed with you."

Sitting at the lawn chair set up next to the register counter, an older male coyote decked out in an open red and black flannel shirt, white t-shirt, a bead necklace with a feather pendant, and an old pair of denim jeans with the knees worn out slowly lowered the newspaper he was reading. "You better not have! Cash Cow may be focused on, 'mo~ooooooving merchandise to get you a better deal' but you need to pay for what you want to eat **first**!"

Beside crotchety old man's right and standing behind the counter at the register, an elderly female coyote worked fervently as she nodded her head in agreement. The woman was busy counting out the transaction device's drawer but she was a still a lovely thing despite how harried she was at the moment. She had a turquoise bead necklace and was dressed in a simpler cut but more elaborately designed garment than her husband: a sleeveless gray dress decked out with a pair of Native American dream catcher designs printed on it. The canid woman didn't even take her eyes off the money she was tabulating as she merely replied, "Mmm-hmm! We accept cash, credit, or debit; no personal checks."

Rolling his eyes, the viridian Hawaiian shirt-clad red fox slowly exhaled in tired acceptance. As usual, even among his fellow predators, he found his species to be distrusted by them. "Don't worry, I didn't eat anything yet!" He called out towards the back of the store where the proprietors were set up, one working hard while the other was hardly working. Stepping away from the carriage, Nick made a beeline for the end of the aisle he and his buddy had been standing in. Looking at the end-cap and all the shrink-wrapped six-packs of ramen cups–selling at a buck-fifty a package or two for three dollars–the vulpine male picked up one set of shrimp and another of miso before bringing them back to the carriage, his emerald eyes gazing to his partner in a silent plea to just finish this trip up.

Sighing at how thin-skinned Wilde was acting as of late, the smaller predator of the duo nodded his head. "Fine, fine," he told the taller fox. "We got more than enough for a week here anyway..." he grumbled as he motioned for his somewhat-friend to get to moving shopping cart, signaling that he was good to go. Not like he needed to take time to peruse the porn rack thanks to having Cherry but he would have felt a lot better if Nick at least checked it out. The guy was obviously becoming sexually frustrated and Finnick would have like some proof that his partner still swung towards the ladies.

Nodding his head firmly, Nick gratefully told the desert fox, "Thank you." Stepping behind the shopping cart and grasping the handles, the canid con-mammal began to push the plastic carriage towards the check-out in the back...

...Only to yelp as the wild boar came stomping forward from the former greeting card rack, using his right arm to push the carriage over, sending most of the contents sprawling. "Hey!" Wilde shouted, only to watch as the porcine prick continued onwards towards the cashier. " _Friggin' asshole_ ," he muttered under his breath as he grasped the cart and turned it upright once more. Once he had it stable the fox bent down to one knee, grasping the fallen items that were in his immediate vicinity while his shorter partner went after the cans that had gone rolling. _I swear to God_ , the vulpine thought in disgust. _That jerk's no better than_ —

His train of thought violently derailed as Nick suddenly realized where he remembered the damn warthog from; his danger senses now ringing in his head. He quickly reached out and grasped his partner by the shoulder; a little harder than he meant to but he was acting on instinct rather than thought. " _Zerdan_ ," he hissed under his breath. " _We need to go_." 

Blinking his eyes, the desert fox was taken aback by his fellow fox's rather abrupt actions. Wilde was a bit of a wimp, so to see him take command was a bit startling. "What the hell you talking about, fool?" He queried in annoyance. "We still haven't bought our stuff."

Gritting his teeth as his friend wouldn't lower his voice, the red-furred vulpine hissed, " _It's him! We need to get out and ASAP!_ "

Raising an eyebrow, the sandy-furred fennec whispered, "Who is 'him'?"

Her ears going straight up at all the noise, the female coyote behind the counter looked up to see the clutter of merchandise all over the floor; the pair of vulpine men arguing with one another while the taller of the duo motioned over to the tusked boar that was making his way towards her with a self-important strut. Quickly putting away the money she'd been counting back into its proper slots of the drawer, she slid it back into the cash register just as portly porcine individual threw the reading article onto the countertop: a shrink-wrapped copy of the May '89 issue of Heat Magazine. Nodding her head, she rang up the five dollar price-tag before the faded golden-furred canid woman turned her attention back to the herbivore that now standing in front of her. "That will be five dollars and thirty-three cents with tax. Will there be anything else, Sir?" She asked, staying civil with the customer.

The corners of the European boar's lips curled up into a smile. "Yeah actually," he replied in a nonchalant manner as he made a showing of looking up and down at the wall behind her that had rolls of lottery scratch tickets and shelves with cigarette packs. He then reached into his right pocket and threw a black sack atop of the countertop as well. "You're gonna empty the register and put the money in that bag. No fudgin' around now..."

That statement startled the both the elderly woman and her husband, the male coyote once more lowering his newspaper to look up in shock at the boar. Blinking her eyes a couple of times, the woman looked up at the tusked prey mammal, making sure she heard him right. "Excuse me?" She asked in clear disbelief of the man before her.

"I said gimme your money, all of it, and _**don't fuck with me**_!" He then pulled a matte-black submachine gun out of his pants, the roominess of the garment having hidden the firearm well. With a visible magazine box and a thumbhole fore-grip, it was an imposing weapon, especially as he aimed at her like a handgun. "Now move!" He smiled in a haughty fashion as the older male coyote practically fell back in his seat in his attempt to put room between him and the gun-toting mammal while his wife did as told, emptying out the register into the black bag. Grasping the sack with his free hand, the boar lifted it up and down, noticing that it was much lighter than he thought it should have been. "That's it? Seriously!?" He demanded in clear disbelief. 

Narrowing her eyes as she stared down the barrel of the gun being aimed at her, the canid woman frowned. "What do you mean, 'seriously'?" The elderly cashier asked with apparent annoyance at the felonious porker's expectations. "You're robbing a _discount store_... are you really **that** surprised at how little cash we have on paw?"

"But this place is always busy!" The boar roared as he waved his gun and fired off a few shorts into the ceiling, making both coyotes cringe at the damages and the two vulpine men that had been trying to sneak out drop to the floor in panic. "Do you see those damned foxes there? They're paying customers, ain't they!?

As bits of ceiling tile finished sprinkling over him, the desert fox tilted his head upwards to glare at the idiot wild boar. "Yeah, it's called paying with debit cards, asshole!" Finnick shouted from his place on the ground, his temper getting the better of him. He then let out a surprised if not frightened yelp as the armed porker began firing overhead once more, this time low enough so that he was blowing out the front windows of the store.

With the angry prey mammal's attention pulled away from her, the female coyote quickly brought her right hand underneath the counter, pressing a red button as firmly as she could over and over again to activate the silent alarm. However, seeing the man step towards the two downed vulpine, the Native American mammal quickly piped up, "He's not kidding. A lot of our locals pay in cash or credit of some sort; a few even have a running tab. We just don't have the sort of cash that would get you that grand larceny charge you seem so desperate to get on your record."

Gritting his teeth, the tusked herbivore growled in a way more befitting a predator. "Oh, think yer so damn funny, don'cha bitch? Whatever! Get over with the other old fart! NOW!" He shouted as he motioned to the male coyote still on the floor. When she started to move over to her husband, the armed prey mammal turned around and took aim at the two foxes directly with his submachine gun. "And that goes fer you dirty Yiffers as well! Everyone over here where I can see 'em! No one leaves 'til I get my money!"

Slowly getting up off the floor, the red fox carefully raised his arms up in a show of submission. As he and the smaller vulpine made their way over to the back corner of the store with the elderly married couple, Nicholas could only mutter, "I told you we should have left when we had a chance..."

Snorting as he walked over towards the warthog while the firearm was trained on him, the sandy-furred desert fox couldn't help but quip back, "Well sorry! Please forgive me for thinking you were just having _another_ one of your existential crises. You'd been a whiny bitch since we practically got here and I thought it was best to ignore you like I had—"

"SHUT UP AND GET OVER HERE ALREADY!" The wild boar roared out, interrupting the petite fennec and making both male foxes cringe and lower their ears as they ducked their heads. When he had everyone lined up within his immediate field of vision, portly mammal nodded his head and looked at the elderly male canid that was being helped up to his feet by his wife. "All right, now open the safe, old man!" At the confused look that came over the male coyote's face, the porker took aim at him with his gun and demanded that he, "Open the Goddamn safe!"

Bringing his hands up between himself and the firearm trained on him, the Native American mammal tried to explain, "We... that is, we don't have a safe! Honest!" He motioned to the counter his wife had been working at and declared, "We only have what's in the register!"

"Bullshit!" He snarled as he raised his right arm and pulled the trigger once more, firing along the back wall. He waved his outstretched limb wildly, putting numerous bullet-holes into the surface in an uncontrolled fashion until the pinging noise of ten-millimeter slugs ricocheting started sounding out as the line of fire focused on a poster of superstar Gazelle advertising Pepsi-Cola's citrus soda, Mountain Ewe. Unclipping the now empty magazine the boar reached down and pulled another from the left pocket of his cargo pants, reloading it into the bottom box feed of the weapon. Walking up to the now ruined poster, he reached out with his left hand again, his hooved digits grasping the paper and tearing it down, revealing the steel door with combination lock. "There's your Goddamned safe!" He roared as he turned about once more and aimed the weapon at the elderly predator. "Now open that piece of shit up!"

The older coyote looked left and right, his eyes darting between his wife and the thug that intended to take them for everything they had. The male predator was completely torn on what was going on, as this was their livelihood that was being threatened. It was bad enough that the damages already inflicted on the building were going to set them back but if this porcine prick took the contents of the store safe, he was going to ruin them outright!

Seeing the hesitation in the man, the Central European boar shouted, "Quit stalling, ya damned Chomper! You better open that piece of shit!" Seeing the man stand there stock-still like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car, the tusked thug threateningly roared out, "Come on! Either you open that fucking thing or I'm gonna blow their brains out!" He shouted as he motioned his gun in the general direction of the older canid's wife and the two foxes.

His arms rising up as high as they could, Nick was quick to shout out, "Don't shoot! My brains are quite important to me!"

Nodding his head In agreement, the sandy-furred vulpine couldn't help but point out, "No kidding! He certainly isn't getting by on his good looks!" He then let out a small yelp as the taller fox gave him a solid kick in the butt, making him fall forward flat on his face.

While normally an out of character action for Nicholas, the fact was he knew of his partner's temper all-too-well and he didn't want the smaller predator to give the obviously hardened mammal any reason to blow them away.

Seeing so many people in danger – particularly his wife–the old mammal's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay, okay..." he replied in fearful resignation. "I'll open the safe. Pleasure, just don't hurt anyone!"

"Good boy, now get crackin' and no funny business!" He shouted as the canid male made his way over to the wall-mounted safe, working the dial of the combination lock. As the elderly store-owner continued to spin the numbers back and forth repeated, the irritable prey mammal growled out, "Faster! I ain't got all day!"

Taking a moment to look over his shoulder, the Native American carnivore replied, "It's not that easy! You need to be precise with this or it won't—"

"You open that thing on the count of three or one of these useless pelts **drops**!" The tusked prey mammal threatened, interrupting excuse the man was trying to give him as he trained the submachine gun on the woman in particular. "One... two..."

"FREEZE!" A female voice shouted. "PUT THE GUN DOWN AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST, CRIMINAL!"

Everyone turned about to see that standing by the entrance at the front of the store was a uniformed and armored member of the Zootopia Police Department. But not just any police-mammal, oh no! This in particular happened to be one...

"Carmelita!" Nick shouted the name of the vixen standing there with her shock pistol aimed at the villainous warthog. He could feel the relief flooding him as he realized help was already there! The male fox didn't know how she knew to come but he sure as hache-eee-double hockey sticks wasn't going to complain!

The warthog felon stared for a moment, blinking his eyes behind the lenses of his slat visor sunglasses as recognition began to dawn on him. "You..." the sinister swine snarled as he took aim with his rapid-fire gun. "Yer the bitch that hurt mah boy yesterday! I'm gonna fuck you up **big time**!"

The vulpine policewoman didn't notice nor possibly hear the angry boar's threats and condensation of her actions. Oh no, as soon as he turned to face her, Officer Fox's ingrained ability of the, 'Inspector's Intuition' went wild; the weapon in his hand setting off orange **fireworks** in her vision. Her mind began processing information a mile a minute as it recognized the firearm on a subconscious level as an Agram 2000: a Croatian submachine gun based on Beretta's model M12 although it had a fore-grip and a faster rate of fire than the M12. The vast numbers available after the Croatian War of Independence ended, as well as the ability to customize it with a sound suppressor made it a popular choice among criminals–although it seemed this thug preferred to let it be a loud son of a bitch.

With the firearm being so recognizable combined with her personal experience facing criminals with such a weapon helped Carmelita _**a lot**_ as her natural vulpine ability of the body working faster when not in perfect sync with the brain went into action, the woman already rolling to the right and dodging under the spray of fire that blasted where her head would have been. It was a roll that didn't stop as she quickly got to her feet again, using the furthest aisle to the left for cover as the tusked prey mammal continued to unload bullets at the speed of eight hundred rounds-a-minute!

Realizing that shit had hit the proverbial fan as the boat let his anger run away with him–as was stereotypical for the tusked pigs–Nick quickly sprang into action as well. The red fox grabbed the older woman and helped her to get flat on the ground in an attempt to avoid getting hit by any stray bullets. The last thing he needed was a trip to the hospital and he doubted that the older couple could take a ten millimeter slug hitting them either.

The female coyote gasped in surprise as the fox helped guide her to the floor but she wasn't about to complain, considering her reflexes weren't what they used to be with her advanced age. She pressed herself up against the male vulpine in the Hawaiian shirt as she took up his unspoken offer to be used as an animal shield.

"Damn coppa!" The wild boar yelled angrily as he continued to spray bullets out while reaching down to his pants, feeling about for another bullet clip before his current one ran out. "Mah boy didn't deserve dat! Yer gonna pay for blasting him!"

Gritting her teeth as she did her best to dodge and weave, the vixen was already coming to a conclusion by how he talked about just who this was... she had come across the one that Chief Bogo had named the other day as one, 'Beebo Pig'.

After a little bit longer, the Notorious P ran out of bullets and unclipped his gun.

At the sound of silence, the petite predator lifted his head up to try and look at what was going on. "Thank gouda, he's out..." Finnick muttered in relief. Watching as Carmelita raised her head up and brought her shock pistol up to take aim. _Great_ , he thought with ease for once in his life **glad** a cop was taking charge. _Now this whole thing will_...

"But wait! There's MORE!" The tusked thug yelled, interrupting the petite predator's train of thought as he slammed another magazine cartridge into the loading box. With his weapon reloaded, the wild boar continued where he left off, pulling the trigger and showering a hail of bullets at where the vixen's head _**had**_ been just seconds prior.

... _Never end_ , the fennec thought as his eyes filled up with unshed tears. "This can't possibly get any worse, can it?"

Poor Mr. Zerdan really should have kept his mouth shut as God always loved to take a bet. In trying to hit the Hispanic vixen that was running back and forth along the left wall to avoid the gunfire, the ten millimeter slugs managed to blow away enough of the wooden wall that the plumbing behind it was exposed. Water was now starting to spray out, which not only made it a hazard for the policewoman to run on, but exposed more metal that bullets could ricochet off of.

 _*Thwink*!_

" **AAUUUGGGGGH**!" The fennec roared in sheer agony as he felt the intense burning bite of a bullet finding purchase in his body.

"FINNICK!" Nick shouted as he continued to cover the woman with his own body, the elderly lady pressing herself tighter against the vulpine at the combined oppressive racket of gunfire and raised voices. "WHAT HAPPENED!?"

Rolling about on the floor in an attempt to deal with the pain and merely succeeding in spreading blood across the tiles, the desert fox looked towards his friend with wide, blood-shot orange eyes. "I GOT SHOT IN THE **ASS**!" The vertically-challenged vulpine screamed as an intense level of pain shot out through his body from the site of the bullet wound.

"Oww..." Nick muttered in sympathy, remembering the time he took a BB gun to his rear, this had to hurt worse. Still, of all the places to get shot, at least it was his friend's butt, almost nothing but padding there. "You're alive at least."

" **RAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGH**!" The little fox screamed unintelligibly in complete and utter suffering.

Ignoring the suffering going on around him at the destruction he caused, the gun-toting mammal was snorting through his upturned nose at how heavily he was breathing; his nose ring fluttering constantly. "Give it up, coppa! If you don't surrender, I'm gonna start turning my gun on these nice folks in here!" The warthog yelled out into the air as he began to pick up and try to move around after his target. "Face it! That puny pistol of yers may pack a punch but you need a clear shot! You ain't gonna get that with me, that's fer sure!" He snarled as he took out another clip from his cargo pants and fed the ammo magazine into the loading box. The boar was making his way to the furthest aisle had the woman running around in, waiting for the moment to strike and take the bitch down for sending Rock to the slammer.

The Hispanic policewoman frowned, realizing this could be it. Still, Carmelita wasn't about to go down without a fight, innocent mammals were depending on her, including Nick and Finnick–the later **needing** immediate medical attention. So holding her index finger on the trigger, the vixen continued charging a shot just in case one last attempt at diplomacy failed. "Give it up, felon! You're in serious trouble as it is! You've committed armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, resisting arrest, and attempted assault of a police officer just to name a few of your crimes! If you surrender now, this won't have to get any worse for you!"

"IT'S ONLY WORSE IF YOU CATCH ME!" The Central European boar bellowed out angrily as he pulled the trigger of the firearm again, letting off another hail of gunfire into the shelving which he was now starting to actually see his intended target through as his submachine gun blew away more and more of the shelves and merchandise that had been stacked on it.

Her heart beating a mile a minute, the navy-tressed vulpine officer pumped her legs, thankful that she had a lot of experience needing to push her body past the limits from the years spent chasing Sly. Unfortunately, was broken pipes continued to pump water, the soles of her boots were having difficulty getting the traction the vixen needed, and even being slowed down a few milliseconds was deadly. She hissed as she felt pressure against the back of her Kevlar vest as was tagged by more than a few of those bullets, making the woman nearly stumble as the Latina police officer made her way to the next aisle, which still had some cover thanks to the mostly untouched rack of...

... _Discount porn?_ Officer Fox thought in shock before shaking her head in disgust. With new cover and some dryer floor attained for her feet, the vixen brought her left hand to hold the pistol as well. She needed both hands to not only steady the weapon but to free up her right thumb so she could press the special button on the side, the 'R1 Button' as it were called, which caused both green bulbs at the end of her shock pistol's barrel to begin to spark wildly.

Chuckling evilly, the boar began to step towards her once more. He had one more clip, but the one was all he was going to need. "Face it! Yer number's up, you Yiffing Chomper Bitch!"

Her eyes narrowing angrily, the vulpine lost all the hesitation she had about what she was about to do. _Now or never_ , Carmelita thought as she rushed out in from behind the porn rack in a lunge as she released the trigger. While this would normally let off a single shot of charged ions, the fact she was holding the first right button allowed her to use one of the weapon's special functions, the Triple Shot–her shock pistol firing of a trio of projectiles that spread out in an arcing motion with a single blast!

As the shots came flying at him, the Central European boar's eyes widened in horror behind the lenses of the sunglasses created after a style popularized by infamous rapper Kaninye West before he went jumping to the side and **through** an aisle wall of shelving in an attempt to avoid the three energy blasts. As he did, the warthog let loose a howl of pain, both from having to smash through a solid barrier and the fact he wasn't fast enough to dodge, one of the shots managing to tag the hand that was holding the submachine gun. "SONNUVABITCH!" He roared, electricity arcing across the surface of the boar's body as he went stumbling against the wall, smashing through the glass doors to one of the cooling cabinets, some of the bottles and cans of various liquid refreshments breaking open and splattering their contents over him.

Carmelita was panting heavily as she watched the carnage from where she lay on the ground. The vulpine policewoman may have only been able to tag him once, but that seemed to be enough to screw him up as he simply lay there inside a refrigeration unit; a fog a cool air misting out into the store as the floor through the broken display door as the floor around the prey mammal's feet became soaked from the different drinks. "Thank God..." she whispered in relief.

The relief was short-lived as Beebo, a now soaked and sticky mess, pulled himself free from the enclosed space. Gnashing his teeth in anger as glass either fell off from or stuck to him thanks to the moisture, he whipped his head back and forth, looking for the woman that caused him so much pain. Catching sight of her on the floor, he was seeing red. "I'M GONNA SKIN YA ALIVE!" He yelled as charged towards her, bursting through through yet another set of shelves in his blinding rage, the explosive force sending goods flying everywhere as he brought himself right up to the downed police officer. Pointing his gun at her, he grinned in a maniacal fashion. "Game over, you Yiffing cunt," he snarled as he took aim with his machine pistol. "I'm gonna use your pelt to rub my feet on when I get home." He promised as he pulled the trigger.

 _*Click*!_

Blinking his eyes once, twice, all the thug could query was, "Huh?" The warthog looked down at his weapon and pulled the trigger a few more times before realizing that his gun was jammed; damaged beyond the point of functioning due to the blast of the shock pistol. "DAMN IT!" He shouted as he kept pulling the trigger and shaking it over and over again, trying to make it work.

Straightening up from where she had landed on the floor in her flying dive to shoot the perp, the Latina vixen holstered her electronic firearm. Closing the distance as he took a few steps back from her, the policewoman cracked her knuckles as she glared at the punk porker with a newfound anger blazing her brown eyes, making them flicker with an amber gleam. "Beebo Pig," she stated his name firmly. "You are under arrest for armed robbery..."

Seeing the angry Chomper getting pumped up to do some damage of her own, the now surprised boar kept backpedalling away from her. "Nuh-now, wait a minute! Wait a minute!" He shouted as he saw her rear her right fist back. "Yer an officer of the law! You can't just—"

A punch smashed him straight in the face, breaking his slat visor sunglasses and causing him finally drop the Angram 2000. As he stumbled back from the blow, he brought both hands up to rub his face to make sure he didn't have any glass in his eyes.

Taking another step towards him, Carmelita reared her right fist back once more. "Assault with a deadly weapon," she continued as she then sucker punched him, making the wild boar squeal out like the little piggy he was as she smashed him hard across his upturned nose. "Destruction of private property with malicious intent," the vixen added as she brought that same fist back across his nose a second time for a vicious backhanded strike.

"Don't forget that he shot me!" Finnick cried out from his place on the floor towards the back of the store with the others; the coyote couple and Nick staring on in shock as the police officer threw everything she had into taking down the porcine perp.

Her heart pumping faster in pure rage at hearing that, the vulpine police officer reared her right leg back. "Causing grievous injury to another mammal!" She shouted as she then kicked him in the crotch with her steel-toed boot, making the solidly built prey mammal squeal again–at a much higher pitch–as he dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks. He curled up into a fetal position, both of his hooved hands reaching down between his legs to try and protect his now possibly cracked family jewels.

Staring down at the mammal thug that had called her a _Yiffer_ , injured her _friend_ , shot at _her_ , and hurt _**so many others**_ , that the policewoman couldn't bring herself to let up. "Destruction of private property with malicious intent," she continued to list off as she kicked him across the face. "Resisting arrest," the vixen kicked him in the stomach when he brought one of his hands up to rub and try and protect where she had made contact with her steel-toe across his ugly mug. "Assault of an officer of the law with a deadly weapon, intent to murder, and so much more than I can say right now because I! AM! **SUPER**! _**PISSED**_!" She roared out as she planted her foot firmly on the side of his head to keep him down on the ground.

Officer Fox stood there in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily as her chest heaved within the now tight-feeling confines of her Kevlar vest. Her nostrils a number of times with each deep breath as she just remained in that position, glaring down at the fallen thug; time seemingly having stopped for the female red fox. Finally though, time began to speed back up once more as her adrelaine rush began to ebb. However, before the Hispanic officer could say anything else, her heart jumped in her chest as she felt something touch her shoulder. She spun around, intent to backhand this new opponent... only to stay her strike as she saw it was Nicholas, the vulpine cringing in abject fear...

...Fear of **her**.

She lowered her first, the woman trembling slightly as she saw just how terrified the man was. "Nick, I..." she trailed off as she removed her foot from Beebo's face so she could turn to face her fellow fox fully. "How is everyone?"

Lowering his arms as he realized the possibility of getting slugged had dropped tremendously, the con-mammal brought his hands down and wiped at his Hawaiian shirt in an effort to straighten it out. "Other than being scared out of my mind right now..."

"MY STORE!" The male coyote screamed as he got a look at the destruction that surrounded him.

Cringing at the man's cry, Nick schooled his features but still gave her a pained expression. He was trying to hide how scared he was but it was immensely hard to do when the only thing he could during all of that was keep his head down and pray to whoever may be listening that he survived. "Well, that and the store... we're mostly okay... but, um," he trailed off for a moment, taking second to look over his shoulder at his partner once more before his fully attention turned to the vixen once more. "Do you have a cell phone? I think Finnick will try and cut your butt off and use it to replace his if he isn't treated right away."

As she was about to answer, Carmelita's ears began twitching as she heard the sound of sirens starting to close in. The woman nodded her head in understanding, retrieving her handcuffs from her belt. "We'll call for an ambulance..." the canid cop promised her fellow fox as she made her way over to the downed porcine thug. Sitting him up, she pulled his left arm behind him as she began to apply the handcuffs to his wrist. "Beebo Pig, you have the right to remain silent," she brought his other arm behind him and clasped the other handcuffs, restraining both of his arms behind him. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," she said as she helped raise the wild boar up to his hooved feet once more, leading him towards the entrance of the store. "You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you..." she continued to quote off the Miranda Rights as she exited the store front with the whimpering felon just as a trio of police cars rolled up onto the scene.

Watching her head outside to get the damned boar settled with the arriving officers, Wilde was absolutely torn on how to feel. What he had witnessed had been some of the most vicious out-and-out police brutality ever, made even worse was that he Carmelita had been the one to administer it. Yet at the same time, that had been the same jerk who had robbed Finnick and him so long ago, not to mention just shot his poor pal in the keister as he held them hostage and fired around like he were playing a game of GTA! And of course there was the fact he had literally tried to murder the woman in cold blood then and there; he had even watched helplessly as she got nailed by a few of those stray bullets near the end.

Could he really hold her rage at the insufferable prey mammal against her?

Sighing, the crimson-pelted canid shook his head and made his way back over to his pal, the smaller vulpine being attended to by the elderly coyotes; the wife of the duo pressing an entire paper-towel roll against his butt to put pressure on it and hopefully stem the bleeding. "How're you holding up, big guy?"

"MY ASS IS ON **FIRE**!" The petite predator screamed. Tears were streaming down his face, leaving it a mess of salt water and mucous from his runny nose. "HOW THE HELL DO YOU _THINK_ I'M HOLDING UP!?"

Cringing at how one of the toughest mammals he knew was reduced to a quivering wreck, the taller fox of the dup sighed miserably. "Well, we're alive at least," Nick chirruped in response. At the forlorn expressions the faces of the elder couple attention to his bleeding partner, he asked them, "And how about you two?"

"We're ruined," was the male Native American mammal's response before he sighed and slumped down onto the floor, burying his face in his paws. "We can't afford to fix all the damages that guy did. We were always hovering just above red, but this..." he motioned around at the destruction of the Cash Cow's interior. "It might have been better if we just let the fiend take our hard-earned savings."

Wilde couldn't help but cringe as he heard the man put it like that but he wasn't too surprised. That was Zootopia for you. A dog-eat-dog world, that would chew up the predators and spit them out, punishing them for any slip up even if it wasn't their fault. He had seen it happen far too many timed in his life, particularly with the first-paw experience his own family went through. "I... I'm sorry," he said, feeling genuine sympathy for the two as he settled himself on the floor besides his partner in hustling.

As he sat there, the red fox merely waited, wondering when the hell someone was going to come and take care of his friend. Granted, there were far worse places to be shot but he could tell the fennec was in a state of suffering. "Hey, Finnick?" He began speaking to his friend, making sure he was staying conscious. At the grunt he got from the petite predator in response, he told him, "There **is** a plus side to all of this for you. Once Cherry hears what happened, she's going to be babying you while you recover."

That caused Finnick to perk up, even if only a little. That blasted fool was right about that much at least. "Well, something good came out of this, I guess." He tried moving before screaming in pain as the bullet wound flared up again. "SHIIIIEEEEFUUUSWEEEECHEEEE!" He screamed out a rather unintelligible mix of swears, the fennec unable to focus on one curse word as he dealt with the agony that rocked through his body.

"Hold on!" Carmelita called out as she walked back into the store with a couple of officers–a tiger and a timber wolf–as well as an antelope paramedic that was rolling an ambulance gurney into the building. Noticeably, the vixen was now sans her Kevlar vest, leaving her torso in just the blue uniform shirt adorned with her golden metal badge and name-tag. "We're here for you, Finnick! They're going to take you to the hospital and—"

"NO HOSPITALS!" The fennec roared out, surprising everyone. Hissing, the carnivore raised his head up, looking at the female red fox as he pleaded, "No hospitals. I can't afford it."

Cringing, the Hispanic vixen looked to her fellow officers, both appearing rather puzzled by the man's refusal to get professional help. Realizing they weren't going to be of much assistance, she turned her gaze to the female antelope. "is there anything you can do for him?"

Although she had been taken by surprise at the injured fox's refusal to seek medical help, the feminine herbivore seemed to be considering something. "It's a flesh wound, right?" Seeing the tiny predator nod his head and motion to his posterior, the cervidae woman replied, "It's highly unorthodox but we might be able to do something for him in the back of the ambulance." She looked at the man and smiled sympathetically at his plight. "I just hope you don't mind a little intense probing and some deep stitches. We aren't as equipped as Zootopia General proper is."

Raising his eyebrow at the woman's explanation, the male red fox tilted his head as he looked at her with a speculative gaze. "Don't you have to cauterize the wound when it comes to bullets?" The taller male vulpine queried, not noticing as Finnick's eyes widening as he asked at that. "And that requires... what: temperatures well over two-hundred degrees or something when it comes to flesh? Might need to shave that part of his butt too, if only to keep him from being set completely on fire..."

Noticing the shocked look on the petite vulpine's face, the policewoman realizing that such was exactly what doing an on-the-spot job would entail. "Uh, why yes... that's correct," Carmelita replied, suddenly feeling incredibly sympathetic to poor Finnick's plight. It was going to hurts like the dickens, but it would be worth it, both to make certain he didn't bleed out and so the wound didn't get infected.

Seeing how upset the desert fox was becoming at hearing all this, the antelope sighed. "I was **hoping** we wouldn't have to tell him until he felt it. I was trying not to upset the little guy."

Zerdan's jaw dropped. "...Wait... you mean Nick wasn't pulling my leg? You really need to... to..." his pupils dilated into pin-pricks. " _Burn my bottom_?" He squeaked out, his usual deep baritone voice having vacated the premises for the time being.

The female herbivore nodded her head somberly. "I'm afraid so, Mister. It's an emergency fix we can do for those who are in danger of bleeding out. Since you refuse to go to the hospital, we'll need to remove the bullet and cauterize deep into the tissue as to stop the bleeding and then use stiches on the epidermis for a more subtle healing. That way, you can at least have your fur grow back more naturally as you heal up."

His ears flattening back in worry, the desert fox looked up at the female red fox with a pleading gaze. "Do you mind giving that asshole that did this to me a swift kick in the nuts?" He wanted to add, 'again' but he had no idea how the other officers would react and he didn't want to get her in trouble. She was about the only police-mammal he _liked_!

Shaking her head in a negative fashion, the Hispanic vixen explained, "I'm sorry, Finnick, but I can't. He's currently in police custody. At this point, doing so would be considered an unwarranted, let alone unethical measure of police brutality." It was part of the reason why the canid cop was certain she wouldn't suffer any blowback from how forcefully she took him down in the first place. It had been immediate self-defense.

Growling as he couldn't even get that much satisfaction, the sandy-furred fox turned his gaze back to the leggy paramedic. "Can I just leave it in there?" Maybe it wouldn't be too bad once he got some stitches at least.

The pale-furred cervine woman nodded her head. "Sure, if you want to contract tetanus and allow infection to set in," the paramedic replied. "I can assure you that we have some anesthesia on hoof, and it will dull the pain of the procedure considerably," she replied helpfully. "Otherwise those are your choices: suffer, suffer and heal, or go to the hospital where the physical suffering will be minimal... but not the monetary blow you seem so frazzled over."

Gritting his sharp teeth together in growing frustration, the vulpine finally barked out in aggravation, " **FINE**!" He lowered his head and then more calmly replied once more, "Fine... take it out... just..." he cringed. "Just be careful. My girl was rather fond of my butt."

The female medical professional nodded her head as she walked up to the male carnivore and carefully raised him up in her hooved hands. Holding him aloft, she gently placed him down on his stomach atop the gurney before she came around to the headrest. Unlocking the wheels by pressing her right foot down on them, she then carted him off towards the store entrance, telling him, "We'll be as careful as possible..."

Watching the small vulpine head off, prepared to bite the bullet as the paramedics removed one, the vixen turned about towards her fellow red fox to give him her attention once more. "So, Nicholas Wilde..." she began slowly as she met his emerald eyes with her own chocolate orbs, her gaze a lot calmer now. "I hope you don't mind sticking around to give us a few words..." she trailed off, noticing as the male tiger was already retrieving a notepad and pencil from one of the pouches on his Kevlar belt.

Despite having so many members of the ZPD around him, the male fox waved it off. "No, I don't mind. But after all this..." he trailed off, his shoulders slumping as he let off a small depressed sigh. "Well, that's it for **this** store." It had been such a nice place, even if it was a dump. It gave animals like him who lived on a shoestring budget a place to go and get some cheap eats and other goods. He knew there were other businesses out there, but it would take time to find them. Zootopia was a _big_ place.

"Thank you," Carmelita said in genuine gratitude at how compliant he was being. "Tell you what... I'm going to be off for the day after this..." she shrugged. "Hell, I was **supposed** to be off until my radio went off about the robbery!" Shaking her head and causing her navy blue tresses to bounce a bit, the Latina vixen then got back to her original point by offering, "How about when we're done taking statements and the paramedics finish with poor Finnick's butt, I take you two out for a pizza? You've had a busy day to say the least..."

Raising his head to meet the woman's gaze once more, Nick gave the woman a small but genuine smile. "Sure. I know just the place," he replied. What could the red fox say? Despite the seriousness of the situation, he sure as heck wasn't one to turn down free pizza!

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Hearing a knock at the door that had been affixed to the entrance of his office just twenty minutes prior, the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department raised his head to look up from the paperwork he'd been in the middle of filling out. Narrowing his eyes, the man's jaw tightened as he saw a familiar outline of two large horns that extended into two and a half twists through the opaqueness of the green glass. He had been expecting this face-to-face eventually but he hadn't thought it would be so soon; apparently they **really** had it out for his latest recruit. When there was another knock sounded out at his door, the water buffalo inhaled slowly before calling out as calmly as he could in a controlled tone of voice, "Come in."

The handle turned and the door swung into the office, revealing the man that Bogo wished he wouldn't have had to meet again in person so soon; the reddish-brown pelt with white chevron pattern that ran between the mammal's eyes were a unique pelt trait that helped the antelope stand apart from his fellow Kudu. The mammal was currently clad a dark gray trench-coat that practically hid his black velvet suit and pressed white shirt underneath but his golden and silver tie still managed to show its presence as it reflected the ceiling lights of the police chief's quarters. The finely-suited cervidae didn't even bother to make introductions, knowing full-well that the other herbivore he was here to see knew exactly who _**he**_ was. Instead, the man used the finely crafted cherry wood cane topped with a solid gold handle–one shaped like an eagle talon holding the planet–held firmly in his gloved hooves to keep him steady as he made his way over to the closest chair placed in front of the desk and sat down.

Putting his pen down, the African buffalo straightened up in his own chair, puffing up his chest to try and put on an impressive if not intimidating display of strength. "Councilman Hornaday," he greeted in a somewhat pleasant manner, his deep brown eyes meeting the pale slate blue of the bearded bovidae before him. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence today?"

"One to cut to the chase, huh?" The older herbivore snorted. "Fine. I'll be brief with you, Chief Bogo." Bringing his wooden cane down in front of him, the horned herbivore placed both of his hooved hands atop the gold handle. He leaned forward in the chair, staring deeply into the police chief's eyes. "You've done a number of things against the Council's wishes. First of all, you had been given an order and you didn't follow through."

The cape buffalo didn't even flinch at the accusatory tone. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said firmly. "I did as you requested. I assigned her to work Vice over in the Rainforest District. You can check in with Officer Rhinowitz if you want to watch the video surveillance for the Bullpen from this morning. You'll see and hear me clear as day giving her that assignment." He then turned his head down and picked his pen back up. "Now if that is all, I need to get back to my work, Head Councilman. I'm a very busy mammal."

The leather gloves Hornaday was wearing hooved hands audibly creaked as he clenched his hooved digits around the handle of his walking stick. "I'm not one to simply brush off so quickly, Bogo..." he said simply, letting the threatening tone of his voice hang in the air before he continued. "I have been putting up with a lot of the idiocy from Lionheart lately; this little Mammal Inclusion Initiative of his having taken the cake. Yet I am able to deal with it. I know the lion is undependable and needs someone to watch over him to make sure the idiot gets his work done but I had expected far better of **you**!"

That caught the ebony-skinned herbivore's attention. Taking off his glasses, the muscular prey mammal glared at the frail old codger sitting across from him. "If you have a point to make, Head Councilman Hornaday, _then be quick about it_."

The corners of his lips pulling back in a sneer at the firm tone the policeman took with him, the African antelope retorted, "She didn't go to the Rainforest District where I had Edward tip off some of the local reporters that there was a most interesting sight on the streets... instead, it turns out she'd been working the Downtown District..." the Greater Kudu trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the brawny piece of beef sitting behind the desk. "She ended up arresting Mrs. Beaver's nephew!"

The African buffalo scoffed at the other bovidae's anger. "Don't worry your head, Mr. Hornday," he said as he lifted the paper up in both his hooved hands and started to smack the bottoms against the top of his desk, trying to make a neat stack. "I've already personally put Officer Fox's report into the shredder, and Mr. Beaverton has been released from custody without ceremony. No one will ever know."

"Don't give me that! You and I both understand leaks can happen because some animals can't keep their fudging traps shut! But worst of all **we** know," the bureaucrat said firmly. "The City Council and I now know that her nephew is a Gouda-damned _**Predo**_!" He snapped out angrily. "And you're the one that put the temptation in front of him! Mrs. Beaver isn't going to live this down amongst the rest of us. Sure, we won't do anything to Harriet or give her a hard time but that is a shame she is going to have to live with." The glare he leveled at the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department was filled with pure, unadulterated hate. "And it's your fault for not keeping that Yiffer on a shorter leash!"

The horned herbivore clenched his fists atop his desk, roughly crinkling up the paperwork he'd been holding as the muscular bovine met the other mammal's hate-filled glare. "That Mrs. Beaver's nephew has a... we'll call it a, 'healthy fascination' with—"

"THERE'S NOTHING HEALTHY ABOUT IT!" William damn near bleated out as he screamed at the top of his lungs, interrupting the municipal mammal. His frail frame trembling, the antelope continued to stare at his fellow African herbivore. "It's _**sick**_ is what it is! And we don't have any established programs like the Cliffside Health Retreat around anymore to fix his _unnatural_ urges!"

And with that, Idriis had enough. "Oh for the love of Crackers!" The cape buffalo shouted loudly, startling the other prey mammal. "Just listen to yourself, Hornaday! You sound like that stereotype of the specist bigot you claim the Right to be come election time. So what if Mr. Beaverton wanted to pork a fox? What was wrong is that he wanted to _**pay for sex**_!" He snorted angrily. "He should count his blessings such that we're covering his tail for him! The only way this will get out and cause trouble for him is if one of you squeals, so please, talk to the rest of the damn Council if you feel there's a real Gouda-damned problem!"

The Greater Kudu looked absolutely livid at being talked back to like that. "Then we come to the _second problem_ ," he growled out, continuing on as if the horned herbivore hadn't made his case then and there for that the real problem was. "You didn't keep that Chomper bitch to the task at paw!"

That caught Bogo's attention. "What are you talking about?" He said slowly in a guarded fashion. "She worked Vice... did a damn good job of it too. Thirty arrests before noon; a new department record."

Glaring, the Head Councilman demanded to know, "Then why is it that damn Yiffer caught Beebo twenty minutes ago?"

Blinking his eyes, the beefy bovidae stared at the older herbivore with an incredulous stare. "...Come again?" He finally managed to ask when the impact if what the antelope was telling him actually registered in his brain. "You're telling me Officer Fox—"

"Arrested Beebo Pig," the Zootopia politician harrumphed irritably. "It's already all over the news; they're even turning it into some sob story to raise a fund for this elderly couple who's story got ruined," he explained with a snort. "So yes, the other 'golden boy' we had been setting up over the past few months to be a really juicy takedown and credit to our capability as leaders of the city? _POOF_! Up in smoke!" The twisted-horned mammal snapped. "Two days, two perps! Two specific criminals whose arrests we were saving to give us that extra boost to our credibility before election season began because of this one damned **fox**!" 

Needless to say, Bogo was genuinely shocked at this. "...But that doesn't make any sense. I gave her the rest of the day off..."

That response made Hornaday absolutely livid. His eyes were blazing with fury but the horned bureaucrat had his tongue for the time being, considering the other mammal's angle. "Oh, I get it..." he said slowly. "So she just HAPPENS to catch the two criminals that we've been slowly building up during her off time when you just happen to have no authority over her?" He leaned back into his seat, both hands relaxing atop his cane. "Tell me something. Do you remember back when you were a first indoctrinated as rookie officer of the ZPD, Idriis Bogo?" The Greater Kudu questioned, purposely showing a lack of respect as he dropped the other mammal's title completely. "Back before you and McHorn became a successful duo of close-knit partners on the beat? Who did you have as your superior officer? A Longhorn fellow, I believe it was..."

Frowning, the heavily-muscled cape buffalo nodded his head. "Yes, one Officer Michael Longhorn. He was a stand-up, by-the-books kind of steer that taught me everything I needed to know to be a successful police officer." It was as straight-forward an answer as he could bring himself to give the accusatory politician that had been blowing his top since he stepped into his office. Thinking back to the older bull was **always** something of a sore-spot for the ebony-skinned bovine and he tried to keep him out of mind.

A deep if not outright insidious chuckle escaped the African antelope's throat at the rehearsed response he was given. "An interesting choice of words, considering how the man ended up, wouldn't you say Idriis?" He smiled at the frown he elicited in response from the bovidae behind the desk, knowing the Chief would never call him out for the purposeful disrespect he was tossing his way. "Tell me, just _why_ was he drummed out of the force again?"

A guttural growl reverberated in Chief Bogo's throat as he glared at the smirking cervidae sitting across from his desk. "It was the summer of '94: a crime-wave taking place in Zootopia on a scale unheard of at the time. Officer Longhorn and I were put on the case. Over a solid month was spent chasing down leads across this city, and they all kept coming up short; particularly because a number of them kept bringing us to the Meadowlands District and the locals were _less than accommodating_. I tell you Hornaday, frustration is the only way to politely describe how those damned sheep made me feel."

The prey mammal with long twisted horns interrupted the Chief of Police. "The sheep are fair, tax-paying herbivore citizens of Zootopia. Their time in the spotlight may have passed with the Woolworth's legacy being tainted by the rest of the world's response to the Tame Collar Initiative but they are due all the same measure of respect and liberty afforded to all prey of this city. If you couldn't get a warrant from the DA to search anyone's premises than that was your own damn fault for being a lousy police officer." He tilted his head, making certain he was looking into the other mammal's eyes. "Although that should be no surprise that you lost so much control of the situation, considering the way this whole debacle had escalated out of control was _**his**_ fault, right?" He asked in an accusatory manner.

Closing his eyes, the African buffalo breathed deeply, his face contorted with barely suppressed anger. With his eyes still shut, Bogo went on to explain, "It turned out that it was underage pick-pockets living on the streets; a number of little lambs and a predators mixed in. Children who would frequent the areas their victims were doing any major shopping. They would slip out wallet or wads of cash from men's pockets while others would slice the straps of purses, letting them fall off and catching them before running off with them. I only got word of the truth about all this when a child, a young tiger cub–who couldn't have been more than seven-years-old–came to the station and asked to see me, saying she was worried about what her brother had been getting up to."

"A cub that would one day become Precinct One's Officer Julia Fangmeyer, right?" William chirruped as she sat back in the chair, his as he tapped his hooved fingers together.

Opening his eyes, the cape buffalo nodded his head. "The same. She let me know that her older brother was bringing in a lot of money for the household but that he was doing it the, 'wrong way' and she wanted me to keep him from getting into trouble. I figured I could cut a deal with the kid, find out where this group of teens and children were operating out of and put an end to the crime-wave that was plaguing Zootopia... only by the time I drove the girl, I discovered his dead body on the floor of the living room in his family's apartment in a pool of his own blood; three bullets in his abdominal cavity. Someone had gotten to him first. However, that gave me what I needed to break up the group once and for all. I had forensics trace the bullets: nine-by-nineteen millimeter Parabellum slugs." He sighed heavily. "The same ammunition that was being issued to police officers for their then-standard Beretta M9 side-arms..."

"Ah yes, the M9's..." the Greater Kudu sighed wistfully, his eyes going distant as he got caught up in a memory. "The semi-automatic was a Godsend in helping many a fine officer bring down savage predators that broke free of their Tame collars back in the day..." his eyes refocused and he looked at the police chief before him in an accusatory manner. "I believe getting them phased out and replaced with those ineffectual tranquilizer dart guns had been **your** doing, Bogo..."

Ignoring the tangential criticism the other ungulate was sending his way, the ebony-skinned herbivore continued, "The bullets were all grooved the same way from the firearm barrel, pointing to a solitary weapon and shooter. Asking around the area to find if any of the locals witnessed anything suspicious, I found a recurring theme. A police presence had been seen in the area constantly, in fact the latest having been approximately a half hour before I arrived. A number of them mentioned it being the same officer too..."

"Your partner and superior officer," Councilman Hornaday stated firmly. It wasn't a question.

His hands coming together before his face as he settled his elbows on the desk, Chief Bogo gazed at his fellow prey mammal over his hooves and nodded his head. "Yes. Officer Longhorn was behind the crime-wave and then murder. He had been my best friend on the force, took me under his proverbial wing and showed me how things were done at Precinct One; even took the heat when former Chief Wallace Russ would come down hard on me for being a, and I quote, 'square peg refusing to go through a round hole'." The horned herbivore took a deep breath once more as he could feel the return of those sensations of dread from so long ago. "And suddenly I knew that he had been a dirty cop all along, abusing children and had murdered a minor in cold blood to keep his secret."

"Minors seem to have a bad habit of dying around you, don't they?" The African antelope viciously quipped.

Gnashing his teeth as he felt a spike of rage surge through him, the Chief once more had to take a number of deep breaths to calm himself, knowing full-well that the Head of the City Council was trying to goad him into doing something stupid to use against him. So swallowing his pride, the African buffalo continued to speak, "I did what needed to be done. I didn't want to do it, but all the facts pointed to him. I arrested Officer Longhorn, he was sent to the Zoo over in the Canyonlands District, and a lot of the younger kids were given to their parents for punishment or put into the foster care system while the older ones were sent to Juvenile Hall."

"Oh yes, you wrapped that up quite nicely, didn't you?" Hornaday cooed. "Still, it's quite an inspirational story... although it does leave one to wonder if you were in on it or not."

And with that, the cape buffalo became livid. Pushing his seat back as he stood up, Chief Bogo slammed his hands on his desk as he shouted, "What the _**HELL**_ are you talking about!?"

Bringing his right hand up, the cervidae extended his index finger and waved it back and forth. "Temper, _temper_... you really don't want the trouble that would come with assaulting the defacto leader of the Zootopia Liberal Party, would you? Now calm yourself and I'll explain why the _suspiciousness_ of recent events paint you in a **bad** light," Watching as the much taller and superiorly muscled herbivore's chest expanded and contracted considerably from the heaving he did to control his anger, the African antelope continued, "Bogo, I'll be brief. This woman is a fox. She is Pred. A _Chomper_. A **Pelt**. A _**Yiffer**_. And you are giving her the opportunities to show that she can nearly match us hard-working prey mammals! You let that sultry vixen keep that up and she is going to make the predator population pretty uppity and that's a problem for us since they've got something these days they didn't have back when I first got into the Liberal Party: the political pull to back up their uppity attitude. Now we've done things here and there to placate them and it's worked so far. We gave the Chompers a little things to feel important, just enough to quiet them down but more importantly not enough to make a difference in the grand scheme of things."

Staring at Hornaday as the other herbivore's spiel slowed down, the ebony-skinned mammal crossed his arms over his massive chest. "And this has what to do with me, exactly?"

"You're the one allowing her to rock the boat, Bogo. That idiot Leodore may have brought her over to be a pretty little face but you're the one who gives her the opportunity to actually spread this damnable message of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative because of some illogical sense of loyalty to a crusty old badger you knew back in your army days." the politician stated firmly. A small smile split across the antelope's muzzle. "And if you won't reign her in, we will reign **you** in. It wouldn't take much to get you out of the way; there are _a lot_ of questionable moments in your first major case, Idriis, particularly a corrupt police officer who personally taught you. Internal Affairs might need to take a good look into things for us. After all, you might have picked up some of his bad habits..."

Bogo's eyes narrowed into pin-pricks. "Are you threating me?" The horned herbivore growled out, gritting his teeth as he did.

"I'm merely giving you fair warning. Up until now, your loyalty to the prey mammals of this city had been unwavering, Idriis so you still have _some_ clout," the African antelope said as he put his can forward and firmly planted it into the floor. Using it to balance himself as he sat up from his chair, William returned the firm brown eyed-gaze of the larger mammal with his own, cold gray-blue eyes. "Not a lot but enough that I feel you deserve one more chance to straighten up your act. Either you take care of her personally or the rest of the Council and I can find someone who **will**. I'm certain Captain Razorback would be more than happy to show the Yiffing bitch her place." Turning about, the old politician made his way to the entrance of the Police Chief's office. As he opened the door, he held it open for a moment. Without turning back to look at the uniformed herbivore, he calmly said, "I'll be seeing you around."

The door closed behind him with an audible slam.

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 **Author's Notes** : Holy crud... this was another chapter that went straight to the final minutes. Not really a surprise as I lost five days of the two weeks I could have used for writing. I ended up taking time to close the pool and winterizing the outdoor pipes and faucets alongside my father, the old man wanting to get things done before my sister had her kid.

Which also happened during this period. I'm an Uncle again.

But yes. Spent a good deal of what free time I could to put in the usual amount of effort into this chapter. I just hope it's enjoyable. Touched upon so many aspects, including some political slant once again.

To answer Cerberusx's question: yes, 'coming out of the den' is the animal version of the phrase, 'coming out of the closet'. Also, Carmelita hasn't reported Officer Lupus from the armory because she hasn't had the time and she needs to get a lot of things done.

Also, I'd like to give a big thank you to my two Beta Readers Nanya and Innortal as well as my readers. While I enjoy writing this story greatly and sharing a tale that has been in the back of my mind for a while, it's your words of kindness that give me the will to keep on trudging even as live keeps me super busy.

Thank you all and remember: Try Everything.


	12. And the Law Won

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 12: And the Law Won

Turning the key in the ignition, Carmelita shut off the engine of her vehicle before removing the key. Her hand reaching down the side to put it in her pants pockets, those nimble fingers then felt for the latch of the seatbelt, freeing it. Exhaling as she no longer had the Kevlar strap pressing down on her, the canid cop leaned her head against the backrest of the police cruiser, the vixen with navy blue tresses exhaled deeply. "Lo que es un puto día..." she cursed out the day in her native tongue as she brought her right hand up to her chest, idly slipping her index and middle fingers through the button folds her police shirt to idly rub at her collar bone where the safety restraint had pressed against her. As the woman's protective gear had taken a few bullets during the altercation with Mr. Pig, she had been made to turn in her Kevlar vest to one of the criminal investigation unit upon their arrival for evidence. "And already I feel vulnerable," she murmured in annoyance. At least she still had her trusty shock pistol for protection.

Honestly, this wasn't how the female red fox had pictured the day going... **at all**. But she couldn't deny she was already putting a dent into the criminal element. After all, while she had to let one of the Council Members' nephew go for what would have been illegal solicitation of sexual favors in return for monetary compensation, she did take down thwart an armed robbery and another notorious perp was off the streets. "Thirty arrests isn't a bad start all things considered," she mumbled to herself as she reached to her left and grasped the door handle. Pushed the driver's side door open, she then jumped out and slammed it shut behind her. Taking a moment to stretch her arms and legs, the vulpine woman began to walk the length of the ZPD's parking lot to reach the back door to the municipal building to meet with the Chief.

Yes, Idriis had told her she was off-duty but in making another arrest, she needed to give her report. _Can't wait to get my own access to the system so I don't have to keep bugging the guy_ , she thought a bit guiltily. The woman understood how busy the horned herbivore was with running the force and she hated taking up the mammal's valuable time.

Reaching the door, the Latina red fox pressed her hand against the lower of the two steel handle bars that went across the mostly glass barrier set within the metal frame and pushed forward. Carefully swinging the door open, Officer Fox made her way inside, intent to make it to the stairs only to come to an immediate stop in the lobby as another mammal stepped in front of her. When it didn't move out of her way, Carmelita blinked her eyes and looked over the older mammal who was barring her path.

Yes, older. He was a gray-furred Central European boar, his facial hair done in that mutton chop style that was so popular with the species although his was a white coloration that spoke highly of his advanced age–as did the bright fibers of bear stubble that poked up among the pale gray pelt of his chin. Unnervingly, the vixen noticed the right side of his face had a series of scratches that went over his eye, leaving the blind orb an opaque blur in comparison to the left brown eye that was glaring down at her. Still, the vulpine knew he was one of the ZPD as he was dressed in a utility uniform the standard blue and black of the Zootopia police uniform although his was designed more along the lines of the tactical uniforms that were worn by various military organizations. He had a lot of the same gear the woman herself had been issued: steel knee-pads, fortified arm bracers, and a prominent Kevlar belt and ballistic vest set, albeit his included obvious steel plate inserts. However, unlike Carmelita's own currently missing vest, the porcine officer's had numerous scratches woven across it, testament to having seen a lot of action as well as being labeled prominently with a word, 'TUSK'.

When he continued to stand there before her, the Hispanic vixen took a deep breath to gather her wits before calmly asking, "Sir, would you please mo—"

"Don't call me, _Sir_!" The boar belted out, interrupting the slightly shorter woman. "I am a Captain and you **will** address me as such, subordinate!" His chest puffed up as he inhaled; nostrils flaring as he gazed down at her in an accusatory manner with his one good eye. "So you're the infamous Inspector from Interpol?" Think you're, "all that' huh?" He snapped as he poked her in the chest with his hooved right finger. "Think you're so much better than the rest of us, do you!?" He snapped angrily as he again poked her in roughly in the breast.

As that hardened digit pressed into her once more, Carmelita twitched in irritation. "Captain..." she growled out the porcine individual's title. "I kindly request you to remove your finger from my breast. Immediately." What he had already done was going to bruise _**so**_ badly later as it was.

The higher-tanked officer of the ZPD poked her harder in response. "Don't tell me what to do, _Fox_! Just because you're some hot shit from Interpol doesn't mean a damn thing to me. You're in Zootopia and we do things the **right** way around here!" At the softness that surrounded his finger, the boar could admit it was almost a crying shame such awesome tits were wasted on a Yiffer like her. He didn't want to be labeled as a disgusting _**predophile**_.

Oh the things he would have done to her otherwise...

Her lip curling back in a barely restrained snarl, the vixen glared into the man's one good eye. "You may be a superior officer but you keep this up and I will give you a superior kick in the tail, you _chuleta de cerdo_ ," she said firmly before she brought her paw up between them and harshly smacked the wild boar's outstretched hooved hand away from her chest.

Eyes widening in surprise at the back talk, the Captain of TUSK snorted angrily; the rush of air causing the woman to narrow her eyes to protect them while her bangs fluttered from the rush of exhaled air. "You have a smart-mouth on you, _**Fox**_. Think you're a tough gal because you took down a single boar, huh?" He leaned in, getting right up in her face. "I'll have you know I've taken down **hundreds** of predators in a lethal fashion in my day... that includes dozens of you damned foxes. So if you push my buttons, don't expect to see the light of another day."

Her hands clenching into fists, Carmelita's eyes practically started glowing in anger at the unabashed threat directed at her. "Listen here, you—"

" **FO~OOOOOOOOOOOOOOX**!" A loud voice bellowed powerfully into the open air, causing every mammal in the building to drop whatever they were doing and turn their attention towards the source of the voice, the venerable Chief Bogo. The water buffalo was leaning over the side railing of the second floor, looking at the lobby of the ZPD with a stern gaze. His eyes narrowing in on the Latina vulpine, the man outstretched his left arm and pointed in the direction of his quarters. "My Office! _**Now**_!"

As the head of the police department turned about to return to his work area, the boar returned his attention to the vulpine and smirked at her. "Have fun, _pelt_." He laughed as she glared at him, warning him it wasn't over as he walked away. _Oh it's such a shame she's a fox_ , he thought to himself as he motioned up to his face with is left set of hooves. Oh the things he would do to her if he could get away with it like they did in the good old days...

Watching the Central European boar point up at his good eye and then at her to indicate he was going to keep an eye on her as he made his way further into the building, the vixen huffed angrily before making her way to the left staircase; trying her best to refrain from stomping her feet. She wasn't a child and she refused to have a temper tantrum over this. But oh, how it irked her something terrible to see jerks like that in positions of authority. _El cabrón poker_ , she thought bitterly as she climbed the stairs, not bothering to acknowledge some of the stares she was receiving as other officers slowed down to look at her as she passed them. Finally making it to the second floor, the Hispanic vulpine made a beeline the door to the Chief's office where upon reaching it, the vixen raised her right hand and knocked on the wooden frame with her knuckles a few times.

" _Come in_ ," came the muted response from inside. Standing on her tip-ties and raising her hand up high to grasp the handle, the canid cop turned the knob and let her weight swing the door inward. Jumping off, she landed on her feet with ease and carefully closed the glass and wood barrier to the man's office behind her. Taking a few steps further inside before coming to a halt, the vulpine woman carefully asked, "You wanted to see me, Chief?"

Gazing down at the vixen with a hard glare, those deep angry brown eyes of the bovidae's softened slightly. He waved over to the chairs before his desk with his muscular arm and hooved digits before telling her, "Have a seat, Officer Fox. We need to have a serious talk."

Sighing, the policewoman did just that. Climbing up the leg of the chair and getting settled into the seat, the Hispanic vulpine sate up straight so she could see over the edge of his desk without needing to stand. "If this is about the Captain Razorback, I wasn't going to hurt him..." she trailed off. Then after a moment, she admitted, "Unless he kept pressing on my breasts like a perverted porker."

Taking a deep breath, the muscular mammal looked down at the woman before him. "I'll be having a talk to him about that later," Bogo admitted to the female red fox. "Believe me. Even if you have to deal with specist assholes, sexual offenses are still severe enough that mammals will overlook any prejudice." Unless those mammals were cub-diddler sympathizers. Bogo still couldn't believe that some mammals would be willing to defend those animals. _Just watch. With my luck, in a few years it'll be, 'you're a bigot for not liking cubby porn' or some other shit_ , he thought with absolute disgust.

The carnivore woman frowned at that bit of information. While she appreciated he would step in, the fact he could only do it on certain grounds was annoying. "I still can't believe the administration here would have let someone like—"

"Captain Bartholomew 'Black Bart' Razorback get away with such an attitude?" He asked, finishing the Hispanic vixen's statement for her. "That's simple: he's grandfathered into the department as part of the TUSK Unit."

Her lips pulling back in a frown across her muzzle, the orange-pelted vulpine chirruped, "That's another thing I wanted to ask... TUSK?" It had been prominent on his armored vest yet she couldn't think of any organization–military or municipal–that went by that designation.

Seeing the angered look of confusion on his subordinate's face, the horned herbivore took a deep breath. Taking a moment to collection his thoughts, the ebony-skinned herbivore began to explain, "TUSK is an acronym for, 'Tactical Utility Servicemen in Kevlar'. They were founded in the Fifties as a special unit of the ZPD that answered directly to the Mayor's office at behest of the city council. You can think of them as SWAT except they were specifically trained and armed to deal with predators during the city's Tame Collar Era." He frowned. "Captain Razorback is an old school sort and while TUSK doesn't see the same level of action they once had in their heyday, they are kept in reserve as a secondary SWAT team in cases of emergency."

Carmelita couldn't help but twitch at that explanation. "There's that, 'city council' I keep hearing about..." she grumbled irritably. Ever since she actually began working for the ZPD their department kept coming up more often than not

Although he was supposed to be an impartial sort, the cape buffalo couldn't help but frown in disgust as he nodded his head in agreement. He had his own thoughts on the subject; particularly his gut instinct telling him that the TUSK squad was the group of back-stabbers that were spying on and ratting him out to the Council as if they were citizens of the Little Rodentia District. "Because, Officer Fox, in Zootopia it has always been a democracy with a figurehead that runs things. While Mayor Lionheart might be the current face of city being the elected as Zootopia's first predator mayor, the actual voting said otherwise."

Considering that for a moment, the woman shook her head in annoyance. "Politics suck..." Carmelita groused irritably, getting a nod of agreement from the police chief. "I would rather be in a fire fight. At least you know that the bullets coming for you are from enemies." The vixen inhaled before sighing heavily in annoyance. "In politics though? You often can't see the knife coming for your back."

Chief Idriis Bogo nodded his horned head in agreement to the woman's description of the situation. "A rather apt way to put it," he praised the vixen, glad she could see the proverbial forest for the trees. Bringing his hands before him, the muscular mammal clasped his hooved digits together in front of his face, elbows resting atop his desk for support. "Which is why you need someone to watch your back for you..." he trailed off before admitting the truth to her. "In which case, you should know that I've been catching all the knives I could for you over the past two days."

Needless to say, **that** caught the canid cop's attention. Sitting up in her seat in alarm, the Interpol Inspector could only query, "Que!?"

Nodding his head firmly, the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department told her in a stern, almost lecturing tone, "I'll be blunt Inspector. You've had the City Council in damage control mode since your speech. Catching Mr. Teddy got them gunning for you. And now that you caught Mr. Pig–which just yesterday we talked about _**why**_ the pair was so important–you, my dear Officer Fox, are officially up fudge creek without a pawpsicle stick."

Again, a frown adorned the Latina red fox's face. It was true that they had been purposely letting the pair run wild but when it came down to it, "It's not like I could just let an armed robbery go unchecked, especially since I wasn't too far away." Let alone the fact there was no way in hell the canid cop could bring herself to ignore what was going on once she saw Finnick's van parked outside the site of the robbery.

"I know and I don't blame you," he replied, trying to tell the woman he was on her side. "The city's council however, **does**." Bogo had no idea what to do with the City Council. At this rate things were going to get worse long before they got better. "Believe me when I say this: you have set things into motion and the results aren't going to be nice."

Her ears flattening back against her scalp as a growl began to reverberate in her throat, the female vulpine met the much larger prey mammal's gaze. "...You know what? Fuck it! Bring 'em on!" She practically roared; the conviction in Carmelita's voice strong enough that it made Chief Bogo stare at her in genuine surprise. "I promise you this! I won't purposely go out of my way to cause trouble with the Zootopian government but I will not idly sit back and be a, 'token minority species' or whatever! I am **more** than just a pretty face to push an agenda! I am a successful veteran agent of Interpol and I will be _damned_ before I let them force me to sit on my paws and do nothing!"

Blinking his eyes a couple of time, the horned herbivore took a deep breath. As impassioned as that little speed was, he had to remind her, "While I can appreciate your integrity in the face of such challenges, there's not much I can do. Unless you can catch members of the city council being corrupt, conspiring for something against the law, or something else that would force them to be arrested without the department facing consequences, my hooves are tied."

And with that, a small smile graced the vixen's muzzle. "...How much do you want to bet they're corrupted?"

"Don't be naïve. Of course they are! Bogo snorted at the much smaller predatory mammal. "You find me an honest politician and I'll show you someone who's **not** in office," the muscular slab of beef replied in all seriousness. "But that's just it. These are animals who run this city, who are beloved by ninety-percent of the populace..."

Carmelita twitched at that response. "Let me guess... the prey portion of the city, right?" She spat out bitterly.

Again, the horned herbivore nodded his head. "Right. The council members will go to great lengths to look out for and impress the simple masses and what happened? You completely **derailed** a narrative they were setting up for their electoral debut surprise of taking down a pair of criminal... er... 'masterminds'..." the ebony-skinned mammal had to take a moment to scoff at the notion of those two dolts being anything greater than a pair of lowbrow thugs. "So now without a quick and direct show of success, that means the council will actually have to do some work to get the public to think of them in a positive light at the right time." He frowned and dropped the bomb he had been holding onto. "It's gotten to the point where Head Councilman Hornaday visited me personally an hour ago."

That bit of news made the Latina red fox blink her eyes. "Hornaday was here?" She asked, obviously curious as to what that was about.

"Yes. He came to talk to me about you..." he trailed off as he leaned over his desk a bit more to meet the woman's chocolate gaze with his own deep brown eyes. "Specifically, to ask why you weren't where I told you to go. I was able to get away with the excuse of it being a, 'clerical error' but believe me, they want you seen as nothing more than the, 'sultry fox' stereotype to discredit you. And if you keep doing this damn job like the fine officer of the law you are, well... I don't want to think about the lengths they will go to screw you over."

Standing up in the chair she had taken a seat at, the Interpol agent tried to argue, "Sir! You can't be serious! They're politicians but even they can't openly do anything. It's like you said! If they did anything like that, it would cause them to fall under scrutiny to the point where we COULD find something to pin them with!"

"Or they could possibly be pushed to the point of you being called down to aid in one of those fire fights you're so fond of and end up with one of the convict's 'magic bullets' somehow blowing out the front of your face when it enters the back of your head even though they perps are right in front of you," he said firmly, leaving it in no uncertain terms what could happen if the council was incentivized enough. "That's why I need to make a big show of things so I can cover your tail one more time for the time being..."

"...Thanks for the lovely image of my face turning into salsa..." Carmelita muttered. She couldn't help but blanch at that. "I would rather not keep my head down if I can help it."

"I'm not asking you to do it forever. I'm merely taking you out of the equation for a few days," he said in all seriousness. He pulled his hands apart to show her the palm of his right hand in a motion for her to stop. "I mean it. The Council wants some disciplinary action for not only derailing their own plans but also for you doing that on your own time without supervision **AND** for arresting one of their family members earlier today."

Officer Fox watched as the man then placed his hooves on the desk and pushed his chair back. "I am going to start yelling now. I need to make a show of things for them to protect you," he said explained in a firm tone, making certain she understood. "You are going to take the next two days off... which means I want to see you first thing Friday so we can talk things out if I don't see you sooner. You are being suspended but it won't go on your record and you will be paid. I just need you out of sight to get you out of their minds so they don't get pushed to the point of blowing yours all over the sidewalk. Do you understand?"

The woman gulped. Between keeping her head low and getting her head blown off, there really was no choice. "Lovely..." she grumbled in annoyance. "But fair enough." At least she had the Chief on her side. He must have really held a level of loyalty to Barkley to be bending over backwards this much to help her of all animals.

"And don't worry, I'll be talking to Captain Razorback later today about sexual harassment in the work place," he added, letting her know he wasn't off the hook either. "Unfortunately, I can't make a show of it as he deserves even though I would like to because of inter-department politics... but he **will** get a stern talking to from me," he promised the Hispanic vixen.

Carmelita sighed. Some consolation _that_ was. "Can we just get this over with?"

Nodding his head, the horned herbivore drew himself to his full height as he stood up. "Right then. Again, take no offense... I am doing this to protect _**us**_." He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding outward to the point the buttons on his shirt looked as if they were going to pop. Then before the vixen could ask what he meant by that last bit, he roared, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, ACTING LIKE SOME SORT OF WILD WEST SHERIFF BY GOING AFTER CRIMINALS OFF THE CLOCK!? PROTOCAL EXISTS FOR A REASON! YOU CAN'T JUST GO BLINDLY INTO THESE SITUATIONS WITHOUT BACKUP! I KNOW YOU'RE EXPERIENCED AND USED TO WORKING ALONE BUT THERE IS NO 'I' IN 'TEAM'! YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF BLOODY KILLED THIS TIME! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GOOD OFFICERS I'VE SEEN LOST BECAUSE THEY REFUSED TO WAIT FOR BACKUP, BECAUSE THEY REFUSED TO EXERCISE _**COMMON SENSE**_!? THERE IS NO SHAME IN LETTING A PERP GO IF IT MEANS YOU'RE ALIVE TO PREVENT MORE CRIMES DOWN THE ROAD! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, FOX!?"

Hear ears flat against her skull to protect her hearing, the Latina red fox blinked her eyes, wondering if this was how others felt when she blew her top. She opened her mouth to say something only to have Bogo continue, "I JUST TOLD YOU DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE AN INSPECTOR OF INTERPOL! I LET THE FIRST TIME SLIDE **BECAUSE** YOU DID HAVE OFFICER CLAWHAUSER WITH YOU BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO IT WHENEVER YOU WANT!"

The vixen blinked her eyes, the woman absolutely bewildered by this. She tried to open her mouth once more, only to have the African buffalo roar, "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE SUSPENDED TOMORROW! CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY I CAN'T DRUM YOU OUT ON THE SPOT! IF I HAD MY WAY, I'D KICK YOUR TAIL BACK TO EUROPE BUT THAT IDIOT LIONHEART DIDN'T NEED YOU FOR THIS ASININE INITIATIVE!"

Shrinking back into her chair as the sheer audibility she was bombarded with, the Carmelita found herself truly stunned. She knew he didn't mean anything he was saying, but **damn**! That was believable enough to make her feel ashamed of herself!

And he wasn't done. "I TOLD YOU TO **SHUT YOUR TRAP**! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! I SAID SHUT IT! TWO DAY SUSPENSION! COME ON, FOX! GO AHEAD! TRY AND BACKTALK ME! I CAN KEEP THIS UP AS LONG AS YOU CAN! EACH TIME YOU TRY AND MAKE AN EXCUSE I'M JUST GOING TO KEEP ADDING TO YOUR SUSPENSION, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?" Smiling a little, he then told her in that booming voice, "GOOD! NOW GET YOUR TAIL OUT OF MY OFFICE! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AROUND THE ZPD UNTIL FRIDAY! NOW GET OUT! _**O~OOOUUT**_!"

When the slightly trembling vulpine just sat there, he nodded to her and motioned to the door. "Remember, keep your head down and don't say anything to the other officers. Otherwise, please! Have a nice couple of days off."

Seeing the complete one-eighty in personality, the woman blinked her eyes once, twice, _**thrice**_. "...You're good," Carmelita finally muttered as she pushed herself off the seat and walked to the door in a bit of a daze. Damn, that was... **wow**. At least now the vulpine understood how the bovidae was able keep order in Precinct One so easily...

...

...At least when he wasn't on the phone, anyway...

As she exited the office, the canid cop didn't bother to meet anyone's gaze. Not only had she been told not to, but she didn't want to. She could be stoic about this. Yes, it looked bad on her part and that was the intention but at least she wasn't in trouble as far as her record was concerned. Yet oddly, the Latina vixen couldn't help but feel disappointed. She had been looking forward to doing her part, to try and make a difference. Sure in the beginning, Inspector Fox wanted nothing more than to fight coming to Zootopia in the first place but after what Bentley showed her and what she experienced getting here?

The city needed her. The animals of the city needed to have those last vestiges of prejudice broken so they could finally move forward and allow the untainted children to make a better future for it. And if that meant getting out there and showing the all a whole new way to think about predators and foxes, then so be it.

And that left the question... what was she going to do for the next two days?

"Looks like I'll be depending on Wilde and Zerdan more than I intended to," the Latina vixen with navy blue tresses murmured as she pushed the back door and entered the ZPD's parking garage. _I'm probably going to have to stop by J.P. Mare-Gan to make a withdrawal with how much I keep paying out to the pair for their services_ , she thought with a slight chuckle as she walked along the black asphalt and gray concrete structure the neighbored the police station. Hopefully they would accept a pizza tonight as hazard pay. Not that they were at the Cash Cow on her account but she felt bad for them because of what they had to go through.

Walking up to her parked vehicle, the woman stood on her toes and reached up; the tips of her fingers barely able to get a grasp around the door handle but it was enough to get a grip so she could pull it forward and release the door latch. As the door swung open slightly with her hanging from it, Carmelita dropped to her feet fully and grasped the edge of the door. Swinging it open a bit more to get it out of her way the female red fox climbed into the driver's seat before leaning out to grasp the interior door handle before slamming it shut.

As she reached for the car key in her pocket, the vixen with navy blue tresses blinked her eyes as her phone began ringing. Her other hand diving into her opposite pocket, the woman fished out her cell and checked the front, seeing that Nick's name was on the front, she exhaled deeply and slide her thumb over the front of the screen to answer it. Bringing it to the side of her head, the policewoman greeted, "Hola, Nicholas. What can I do for you?"

" _Hey, Carm_!" The voice of the male vulpine chirruped in greeting. " _Listen, you need to get return to the Cash Cow, ASAP_!"

Her ears rising tall above her hair, the vixen blinked at that. The way he was speaking was full of excitement but she couldn't tell if it was positive of negative. It was just straight-up energy. "Is everything okay?"

" _You'll see when you get here_ ," the male fox replied, not giving her a real answer one way or the other.

The Hispanic vulpine frowned. "I don't know how much help I can be. I'm off duty right now..." she trailed off, not wanting to tell the man that she had technically been suspended.

" _That's okay!_ " The Zootopia local chirruped. " _We don't need Officer Fox, we just want Carmelita here. So can you stop by? Please?_ " He asked, the pleading apparent in the male vulpine's voice.

Taking a deep breath, canid cop nodded her head and replied, "Fine, fine. I'll be there as soon as I can..." she replied, getting the feeling that they needed her to help jumpstart the van. The same vehicle which made her go on ahead to check things out to make sure they were okay and ended up putting her in the line of the porcine prick's gun-sights. "You just hang in there, all right?"

" _If I was doing that, I wouldn't be able to call_ ," the male voice joked over the line, eliciting a groan from Carmelita. " _What? Bad pun?_ "

"Extremely," the Latina vulpine said with a tired voice. Shaking her head, the vixen then added, "Still, I'll see you soon." Before she slid her thumb over the surface of her cell and cut the connection. Sticking the phone back into her pocket she then retrieved her key once more and stuck it into the ignition. Pressing her foot down on the brake pedal, she gave the key a twist, getting the engine to rev to life again.

Hopefully what the pair needed wasn't too urgent. She didn't want to draw any attention to herself by needing to use the sirens.

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In all honesty, Carmelita hadn't been sure **what** to expect to deal with when she arrived at the Cash Cow. Although with everything she'd dealt with in her life, riots, fires, and naked dancing clowns were at the top of her list.

Seeing a large group of mammals there helping patch up the outside of the building while other animals were going in and out of it as they moved various stuff, be it fixtures, furniture, or merchandise, was **not** what she expected. "What the...?" she trailed off, her unasked question directed to no one in particular as she turned the vehicle off and disembarked once more.

Almost immediately upon exiting the large police cruiser, she was being flagged down. "Hey! Carm! Over here, Carm! Over here!" Nick called out to be heard over the crowd, waving his right arm to help in garnering her attention. When she came started to make her way over to him, the crimson-pelted canid was grinning ear-to-ear. "This is pretty unbelievable, huh?"

Looking over his shoulder, a very rotund mammal raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Hey, is that who I think it is?" The hippo who was replacing one of the broken windows asked as he looked the vixen up and down.

Nodding his head in confirmation, Wilde told the large semi-aquatic mammal, "Yep! That's her! The lady of the hour!"

Nodding his head, the hippopotamus offered his end of the glass window he was holding to a nearby wolf before turning his attention back towards the foxes. "Oh thank you, Officer! Thank you!" The portly mammal in blue denim shorts and white t-shirt thanked as he rushed over to smaller predator and picked her up in a bone-crushing hug.

" _ **GURK**_!" Was the only sound the poor uniformed fox could make as she was squeezed in a way that reminded the woman **a lot** of one of Murray's hugs. Honestly, when Nicholas had called, insisting she return to the Cash Cow, the vulpine police officer had no idea what she was in for. With all the damage to the facility and Finnick, she could only imagine what went wrong this time that would require her to show up once more. She certainly hadn't been expecting to be hugged by a prey mammal that she had no clue as to who they were. Looking over to the male fox for assistance, she motioned to the large mammal hugging her with a nod of her head.

Chuckling at the awkward state Carmelita found herself in, the Hawaiian shirt-clad vulpine crossed his arms over his chest and explained, "That, my dear Officer Fox, is Mr. Geoff Hortenson... owner of the Hortenson Diner. He had been a victim of an armed robbery last month by a particular pair of armed thugs... thugs you, coincidentally, spent the past two days bringing to justice."

Ending the hug and allowing the police officer to gasp for air, Geoff smiled brightly. "It's great such criminals were finally brought down. When I saw the news I called everyone I knew who had been robbed by that nasty pig and mean rhino and told them about what happened to this place."

Steadying her legs as she was released, the vixen couldn't help but stare up at the larger prey mammal with wide eyes. "That's..." Carmelita panted with her hand on her chest. "Nice..."

"We just couldn't let this place go with such damage done to it," the hippo explained as he turned back to help a few others with the glass windows. As he hefted the glass panes, he continued to tell the female officer, "After all, if not for you, those two would still be on the loose and we'd all be worried they would come back after us again at some point!"

"No kidding!" Another mammal spoke up. When the Hispanic vulpine turned her head, she saw the source of the voice to be a hyena with heavy bangs that covered his eyes and clad in soft Kevlar jacket, worn denim jeans, a t-shirt that read, 'I'm Not Johnny' and a spiked collar... similarly to the other three other spotted canid men that were with him. "Those pricks hit my band up in the back of SheePGB's two weeks ago; robbed us after we had just gotten paid for a week's work! Bastards really screwed us over!" A number of his pals nodded their heads in agreement.

Watching as the mammal walked up to her, it took the vixen a moment but she realized he was the hyena she had seen in line with the rabbit the other day outside of the Wannabite's Food Truck. "Uh... you're welcome..." she replied, sounding a little confused and surprised as he took her right hand in both of his and started shaking. She didn't think people would be this happy to see a police officer. "I, well..." she stammered, not used to such gratitude from the populace.

Smiling at the flustered expression that was crossing the woman's lovely features, the male vulpine nodded his head. "I know, I was shocked too," Nick told Officer Fox. "I then made a few calls to a few mammals I knew who were also robbed or screwed over by those two in some way and lo-and-behold! In less than thirty minutes this place was packed with people who wanted to lend a helping paw, hoof, hand, or what have you to help out!"

"You know!" The nearby wolf that had been helping with the window yelled out, catching their attention. "I bet we can do some rearranging and expansion here! From what I saw, the inside is that it's pretty packed. It wouldn't need to be much, but I bet we can probably open up another few hundred square feet for the owners. What do you think, Hortenson?"

The addressed hippo brought a massive hand up and tapped his chin a few times as he considered the male lupine's suggestion. "That might be possible..." he murmured before going on to inquire in a louder voice. "I mean all the old freezers were shot up, right?"

Nodding his head firmly, the wolf answered, "Yeah! If we installed some of the modern ones that are of a smaller design, we can spread stuff out more."

Geoff nodded his head at that. "I know a few mammals. I can make some calls and see what we can get done."

"Oi, I could help," another of the hyenas spoke up, this one wearing a shirt that read, 'I'm Not Sid'. "When I'm not playing with the band, I work as an electrician. If you let me get the tools out of the back of the bus, I could take a look to see if the outlets will allow for the amperage of the newer units... I mean, no offense but this place is pretty darn old!"

"We can also offer some back muscle to move those units for you!" A third canid punk rocker chirruped, the front of his torn and stained t-shirt adorned with the phrase, 'I'm Not Steve'. "We might not seem like much but together we can offer quite the bit of help."

The Hippo chuckled. While they might not have looked to be the cleanliest or most professional of mammals, he wasn't about to turn down someone who genuinely wanted to help. "Why thank you, boys! That's downright appreciated!"

It was then a female aardvark came up upon the group, "Did you people say something about electricians?"

"Not much. Just that I am one," the hyena replied. Looking over to the woman, he smiled and extended his paw to her in greeting. "The name's Steve. Steve Bones." His grin widened as the small, plated armadillo-esque mammal took his hand and shook it in return. "A pleasure to meet you, luv."

As the two began to talk shop as they were apparently both electricians, the navy blue-tressed vulpine officer couldn't help but look on in awe. The fact that both predator and prey were truly working together to help one another aid their fellow victims of those two thugs was awe-inspiring. She didn't even try to fight the smile she could feel finding its way across her muzzle. This was the sort of thing she had come to Zootopia to help promote in the first place.

Perhaps the mammals here were closer to living in harmony with one another than she previously thought...

"GAH! GOUDA DAMMIT!" Someone yelled from the side of the building. "TURN THE WATER OFF!"

"THOUGHT I DID!" Another male voice yelled out above the crowd.

Taking a look over his shoulder to figure out what was going on, a small amused smirk found its place along the male red fox's face. "Looks like a water line broke..." Nick muttered, knowing exactly _why_ mammals would react that way. "Gouda knows I've had that happen more than once." Particularly when it came to getting some liquid refreshment to water down batches of pawpsicle syrup to make it last longer.

Gazing over towards a gutted wall to see a soaked cheetah standing amongst a number of exposed piped, the vixen couldn't help but smile slightly at the humorous sight. Turning to look at her fellow red fox, the Hispanic vixen couldn't help but query, "You helped put this together?" She couldn't help but be in awe. Nicholas had seemed so mercenary and yet here he was, going out of his way to help those less fortunate than himself.

Shrugging his shoulders, the male vulpine chuckled with an embarrassed tone at the obvious surprise in the woman's voice. "What can I say? I felt bad for the elderly couple. And when the news crews came and started getting the word out... well, it kind of helped get the ball rolling. I merely helped prod it now and then to keep the momentum going."

Nodding her head in understanding, the Latina beauty straightened herself up. If she could lend a paw, she would be glad to. Officer Fox might not be on-duty at the moment but that didn't mean she couldn't put herself out there to do the right thing. "Well, does anyone need any help? I would be willing to move stuff."

Considering that for a moment, the crimson-pelted canid turned his viridian gaze to meet the lovely vixen's chocolate eyes. "There are still some perishables being moved into a freezer truck that some reindeer brought in," Nick mentioned, raising his hand and thumbing behind him towards the store. "You can go see if they need help. I'm going to make a few more calls and see if I can't get a few more animals who know what they're doing out here to assess the damage." At the looks he got, he shrugged. "I know some people who help put various businesses–including grocery stores–together," he said, feeling a tad nostalgic as he remembered when he was studying up to create, 'Wilde Times'. "I'm thinking this place is going to need new display shelves among other things soon."

Nodding her head, Carmelita followed the male vulpine's suggestion and made her way over to the white truck that had numerous cervidae moving goods back and forth. Coming up to the solitary crimson-nosed, antler-adorned buck, she asked the reindeer, "Need a paw?"

Raising his head up to look at the source of the voice, the deer smiled. "Sure!" The hooved prey mammal replied as he nodded towards her. "There's not much more we need to do but we can always use help emptying the last of the store's frozen goods from the back storage. I believe there are still a few cases of TV dinners among other things." He motioned to a blue-painted metal hand-truck further in the vehicle. "Here, you can use the dolly. No need to break your back doing the right thing, Officer."

"Gracias," she told the red-nosed reindeer as she made her way into the truck to get the offered piece of wheeled equipment. Tilting it, she then began to roll the trundler towards and down the ramp that lead from the back of the freezer truck to the ground outside, before going off to follow the line of mammals that were making their way inside of the Cash Cow. The Latina beauty raised an eyebrow as she saw a camel talking with the two older coyotes, mentioning something about making the place an active gas station again as well.

It was rather amazing to see. Considering how bad Zootopia was when she had arrived, this trun of events was just shocking. "I wonder what changed..." she muttered to herself as she went to get the last of the frozen things. Granted, Carmelita knew there was a good chance that she was the reason that things had started to go more positively but she didn't want it to go to her head so she stamped that thought out _**real fast**_.

As she slid the tray of the trolley underneath a large cardboard box of, 'Hungry Herbivore' brand frozen dinners, the vulpine tilted the equipment back so the box was held aloft with the rounded rubber wheels directly beneath the container. Carting the dinners off and into the store to make her way back to the truck with them, the Hispanic red fox realized that if anything, she was a reminder of what the citizens _should_ be doing. Whether predator or prey, mammals were inherently good animals. She shouldn't be surprised that even in a place that never had a proper Civil Rights Movement that they could show one another simple animal decency.

It didn't take long to get most of the perishables moved out of the store and into the frozen trucks with everyone working together. Loading the box of goods up onto the stack of other cardboard containers, she then exited the vehicle before turned her attention back to the buck who had accepted her help in the first place. "So, tell me. How long will this hold?"

"We'll be able to keep them in here for a few days. We'll move them to some freezers we have in storage back at HQ," the reindeer replied as he closed the back and locked it up. "By the way, is it true you arrested Rock Teddy and Beebo Pig?"

Nodding her head, the vixen simply replied, "Sí." Blinking her eyes as the man smiled at her in a grateful fashion, Carmelita couldn't help but frown. "I take it they got you too?"

Letting off a small sigh, the bovidae male nodded his head in response. "Yeah. Those jerks broke into our warehouse a little over two months ago. They jacked about a month's worth of frozen pizzas, TV dinners, and ice cream. They set us back something horrible." At least the insurance covered the loss of money, but the loss of stock was a whole different kettle of fish to deal with. They had _so_ _ **many**_ upset vendors to deal with. "As far as I'm concerned, anyone who gets those two lowlifes off the streets is an upstanding A-Class citizen of Zootopia, even if they weren't born here."

"That is very kind of you to say, Mister..." the woman trailed off, realizing she never got the buck's name.

Smiling, the arctic prey mammal held out a hooved hand to her in greeting. "Randolph," he offered as she took his offered mitt and shook it. "Randolph Kringle... but you can call me, 'Randy' if you wish. The others are my brothers Blitz and Dash."

"YO!" One of the two male reindeer called out from further within the driver's cabin of the freezer truck as he was writing records of everything brought into the vehicle for liability insurance purposes.

Nodding her head, the woman chuckled as she continued to shake hands with the young deer, "Carmelita. Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox."

Smiling wider, the reindeer replied, "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Officer Fox. You're definitely someone who makes the nice list in my book."

The Latina vulpine returned the courteous smile. "Muchos gracias but I was merely doing my job. I'm just glad that no one got seriously hurt." Well, save for Mr. Zerdan getting shot in the rear by a ricocheted slut. She hoped he was okay; it was going to be pretty painful for him to sit down for the time being.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ow~ _wwwww_..." Finnick whimpered as he shifted atop the donut the paramedics supplied him with in the front of his van. "This sucks!" He growled irritably. The only reason he was sitting out on helping with repairs was because it hurt to move around too much. Having **literal fire** applied to one's ass did that to a mammal.

" _Don't worry! It's okay, babe_ ," Cherry's voice cooed sweetly over the man's cell phone. " _My sisters and I should be able to get off the clock soon. Then we can go and get a slice your favorite pizza parlor. Won't that be nice?_ "

"Yeah baby, it will be... it will be..." the desert fox replied with whimper. After the day he had, the fennec didn't wanted nothing more than to sleep. However, the chance to spend time with his girlfriend was always a plus.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Strange. I could have sworn I just heard Finnick..." Carmelita muttered quietly, only to end up blinking her bright brown eyes when she heard the reindeer laughing.

Looking over to the vixen, Randy queried, "Finnick... he's that little fox that was limping, right?" At the woman's nod he told her, "I believe he's off somewhere making a phone call to someone. Damn though, as painful as that looked I can't help but laugh."

The buck's brother Dash nodded his head in agreement with that. "Yeah. Still, we aren't heartless. We couldn't force the little guy to work, not after finding out his keister was basically set on fire to close that bullet hole."

Feeling a little relief at hearing the short vulpine was still okay, the policewoman replied, "Gracias. I appreciate you gentlemammals easing up on poor Mr. Zerdan. He took a bullet from that damned Mr. Pig's submachine gun..." she shook her head in disgust. "Heck, I took a few bullets too but at least _**I**_ had a Kevlar vest to help me take the bastard down."

The driver's side down of the truck opening, another antlered mammal jumped out. Coming up to the trio that was gathered at the back of the vehicle, the third reindeer brought his hooved hand up to tilt his trucker hat up. "And down you certainly took him," Blitz spoke up excitedly as he joined in on the conversation. At the female fox's confused look, the reindeer explained, "Some of the security footage made it to the news. Cheeses H-for-Hummus Crackers! You beat the bloody Hache-Eee-Double Hockey Sticks out of him!"

Blushing slightly as she realized her rough treatment of the porcine prick made it to the airwaves, the Hispanic vulpine had the decency to feel embarrassed at letting her temper get the better of her. "Sorry. He just really... well... you saw what happened right?"

The trio of reindeer began laughing at the woman's humble nature when it came to the amazing arse-kicking she delivered. "No need to apologize to us, Officer!" The youngest of the trio replied; his red nose seemingly glowing for a moment. "What you did was _incredible_! Boars are such nasty bastards... and I mean when it comes to their temper. The fact you were able to bring one down by your lonesome was astounding!"

"Thank you, it's just..." Carmelita trailed off as she saw movement out of the corner of her eyes that wasn't mammals aiding in construction but still carrying equipment all the same. "What the..." she queried as she turned about to take a look at the van. "Is that what I think it is?"

Taking a look at where the Hispanic woman was turned to, the eldest of the brothers went wide-eyed as he realized what it was. "ZNN?" Dash asked in surprise. "What are they here?"

Blitz shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said as he watched as a pair of the camera-mammals began to get their equipment up and running. Tilting his head towards the direction of his youngest sibling, he told the younger buck, "Anyway, everything's good. We should get this to the warehouse for safe keeping."

"Right," Randolph replied. He turned his attention back to the uniformed vulpine woman and he smiled at her. "Now then, Officer Fox, unless you want to take a ride with us to Tundratown, I believe we need to head off." He blushed slightly as he admitted, "Although I wouldn't mind giving you a tour of the District in thanks for taking those jerks down. They were seriously becoming a menace."

Smiling back, the Latina lady replied, "No need to gout of your way for me, Señor Kringle. I was just doing what any officer of the ZPD would do."

" _More like did what they should have done_..." he mumbled under his breath. Taking a deep breath, he then said aloud, "Anyway thank you again for the assistance. I hope we see you around!"

"Adios!" The vixen chirruped as she stepped back from the vehicle as the trip of deer began to load up into it. She watched for a moment as the freezer truck took off before turning her attention back to the Cash Cow in general where a number of mammals were beginning to gather out of curiosity. Yes, there was indeed the ZNN news truck there, albeit this time there was a male Koala in a green suit and purple tie. While the colors reminded her of the Riddler from those Bathound Comics of Murray's, she recognized the news-reporter as David Koalabell immediately.

"Well hello there!" The well-dressed koala bear called out to some of the animals that were close by, causing Steve Bones to look at him as the Australian animal was the closest to him of everyone. "Any of you wish to be interviewed? We'd love to have this air tonight if possible."

"Uh... sure!" The hyena said as he stepped forward. "What do you need?"

Smiling as he held up his microphone closer to the man dressed in tattered clothes "Just answer a few questions is all. We'll be asking a few people and then air it tonight," the bear-like marsupial explained as his technicians got the cameras set up. "Ready?" The hyena nodded as more of the others were walking over to see what was going on.

Nodding his head, the Zebra holding the camera called out, "And we're on in three... two... and one!"

Immediately, the news-anchor burst into action. "This is David Koalabell, reporting to ZNN from the site of the Cash Cow in the Downtown District! We're here to interview a few of the citizens who are assisting with the repair to grocery store after the turn of events earlier this afternoon." Turning to the canid whose species was known for bouts of laugher, he gave the predator an award-winning smile and queried, "So, Mister..."

"Bones, Steve Bones," the punk predator introduced himself. "And if you're wondering, I heard that this place was attacked by that nasty wanted criminal boar Beebo and had to do something to help. I got a call from my pal Geoff Hortenson and then I called some of my pals up and we came down here as quickly as possible. That arse-face Beebo has robbed everyone here at one point or another and we're just helping a fellow victim of his crime spree in a show of solidarity…" he trailed off and before adding another fact. "Well, all of us except for her!" The hyena chirruped as he motioned to the uniformed fox. "She's the one who took down that bastard porker!"

Turning his attention towards where the canid carnivore was motioning, the petite prey mammal's eyes widened in both surprise and delight. "Say, is that Inspector Carmelita Fox of Interpol?" He queried in surprise. He had seen a number of reports on her–including his fellow ZNN correspondent Boi's interview–and was eager to get on the proverbial gravy train to news the people actually wanted!

Nodding his head, Steve replied, "Totes! That's her all right! ZPD's own Officer Fox!" He said with a bit of excitement before shouting at her direction, "OI! FOX! OFFICER FOX! GIT OVER HERE!"

Hearing a thick British accent shout over the crowds, the vixen blinked her eyes as she realized that perhaps the pair in front of the camera were calling to her. Bringing her right hand up and motioning to herself, the vixen inhaled deeply as she saw the man nod his head. "Duty calls..." she murmured as she made her way over to the ZNN newscaster and his pair of cameramen. When she was close enough, the Hispanic red fox called out, "Hola! What can I do for you?"

"Would you mind answering a few questions?" David asked, smiling as she shrugged in a nonchalant manner before nodding her head in affirmation. "Thank you, Officer. What can you say about everyone helping out here today?"

Looking back for a moment at the group of animals working on the damaged business, the vulpine then turned her attention back to the smaller news-anchor. "Honestly? I'm surprised to see so many citizens show up to help out," the vulpine woman admitted. "But at the same time, you can't help but feel hopeful, seeing everyone coming to help out, no matter who's in trouble." She gestured to some of the mammals who were working on the water pipes. "If we could all work together like this consistently, I have no doubt we could make the world a better place." She turned back to the reporter and his camera-crew, a smile on her muzzle. "Really, all I did is catch a bad apple and take him out of the bunch. It is the citizens of Zootopia who came together to help the store owners out after their store was shot up."

The small Australian mammal raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?" Mr. Koalabell queried. "So you would say that in this case, the citizens are the real heroes here?" Honestly, he was finding this woman to be a bit of fresh air. During his career, he had met a number of police officers, politicians, and animals of fame in general who would immediately take all the credit when something was going right. To meet one who could let the people have their day something new.

Nodding her head, Carmelita firmly replied, "Yes. They are the ones who organized everything, people Mr. Geoff Hortenson and Mr. Nicholas Wilde," she smirked. "Prey and predator respectively; both men worked together to gather all the help they could to aid an elderly couple who were also victim to the perpetrator of this crime and left in dire need." She took a deep breath. "Honestly? It's times like this and the actions of good animals trying to do right for one another that make me believe Zootopia actually can live up to its motto. That this really is the city where—"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"—Predator and prey live in harmony and anyone can be anything!" The wide-eyed and excitable Judith L. Hopps exuberantly chirruped her love of the great city-state as she was carted along in the back of her father's baby blue '51 F-Series pickup truck–aka the, 'Ford Bunny-Built'–the rabbit not at all minding the fact that the first post-Zoo War II truck design from Ford had no shock absorbers to speak of whatsoever which caused her to end up being jostled back and forth with every little uneven curvature in the surface of the road. She was so deliriously giddy to be on her way to the Zootopia Police Academy that nothing could bring her mood down!

However, the passenger sitting in the back of her papa's truck with her, one Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether, **did** mind... particularly as the 1951 model switched the truck bed from an all metal floor to that of hardwood... and in being sixty-plus years old, that once prime wood had begun to splinter something horrible, her wool catching all kinds of slivers of wooden pain and giving her a constant pricking sensation against her skin. "That... that's the idea Jud~ _ **iiieee**_..." she squeaked out in pain as the pickup hit a yet another pothole and she could feel a whole mess of pin-like stabbing sensations against her fluffy tail.

Blinking her violet eyes at the shrill squeal that sounded out of the sheep's mouth, the little lapin lady turned her attention towards her fellow petite prey mammal. "Are you all right, Assistant Mayor?" She queried sweetly, worried about the safety of the lady who was helping her achieve her dream. "I know this isn't the most comfortable way to get to Zootopia but I promise we will get you there! Hopefully we have enough hay to cushion any rocking the flatbed might do."

Suppressing a twitch, Dawn nodded her head. Oh yes, the hay they included in the back was yet another problem she would have to deal with. The sheep was going to have to clean out of her wool to get it back to a pristine white condition after all the hay fibers got spun through it; a trip to the groomer's to make a date with a shearer might be in order too. "Oh I'm fine, Judy! Really!" She assured her fellow petite herbivore. "I appreciate you all giving me a ride back..." she trailed off as she refrained from adding, 'to civilization'. Either way, the sentiment of the statement was still true. She couldn't believe the Mayor fell through on his end to get her transportation back to Zootopia!

... _Scratch that, I can_ _ **totally**_ _believe it_ , Dawn mentally amended. The damned lion was such a bully to her! She understood that he had to deal with the city council but that didn't give him the right to take it out on her all the time! And worse, when he wasn't lashing out at her, he was tossing all his excess duties on her shoulders! _Honestly, I should have made my own arrangement to get back to Zootopia_ , she thought with distress. At least if she had a chance to take a look at things beforehand, she would have discovered one actually had to buy a ticket for the Zootopia Express! She was so used to the free public transportation within the Districts that she had no clue one actually needed to pay to take the monorail into the city!

Still, the bespectacled woman could admit she was lucky the rabbit she had talked into joining the Mammal Inclusion Initiative was so grateful that she and her family were taking her to the city with them as they dropped her the girl at the academy... even if it meant riding a rickety death-trap that likely got worse mileage than any of the Sahara Square racecars the local camels drove _. Oh yes, Mayor Lionheart and I are going to have a talk when I get back_ , Bellwether thought bitterly. Normally she didn't have the courage to stand up to the lion but having to spend days out in the Burrows with no money and the fact he wouldn't pick up his cell phone... well she as angry as she'd ever been! The instant she got back to the office, she was going to give him SUCH an earful! Or a pinch, she wasn't sure which.

Her dangerous train of thought was broken when the vehicle hit another one of the many potholes in the 211 miles between Bunnyburrow and Zootopia at just the right angle and speed that Ms. Bellwether found herself in the air and falling out of the truck. "HELP! NOOO!" She screamed as she grabbed the tailgate of the pickup. Her screams got more frantic as the tailgate opened up, but they didn't last long as straw started falling out of the back and into her mouth, caused her to spit and cough as she practically chocked on the deluge of hay.

Her violet eyes going wide as the bureaucrat was being dragged along the road, the lovely lapin lady pushed herself to the back window of the front cabin and began rapidly knocking on it to get the attention of her parents. "Mom! Dad! Stop the truck! **Stop the truck**!" She called out in alarm... only to realize her they couldn't hear her as they had country music playing on the radio as loud as it could–Billy Ray Cyruff if she wasn't mistaken. Rapping on the window harder, she shouted. "DAD!"

"Don't tell me my head, my empty auto-head... you know I wouldn't understa~ _aaaand_ ," he sang merrily and terribly off-key. In being so loud, Stu Hopps and his wife missed the sounds coming from behind them as the greatest thing in Country during the Nintenies played, let alone the urgency in their daughter's voice.

"Muttonchops! Baby back ribs! **Me~** _ **eeeeaaaaaaaaaaad**_!" Bellwether bleated out a wail of despair as she was dragged along the asphalt, her wool taking the brunt of the damage but absolutely ruining the cleanliness in the long-run...

 _*Splash*!_

Poor woman didn't even see the mud-filled pothole coming.

"Ooooh!" Judy growled before jumping into action once more, doing her best to climb on top of the Ford's cab. Slipping a little due to the fact that such vehicles were never meant to be crawled around atop of–what with being metal boxes with a trailer on the back–to prevent things like manure, straw, or even tails from the various species that might be in the back from getting caught and trapped in something. While it was fairly ideal for shipping stuff, the rabbit found it made for a **terrible** jungle gym, especially when it was moving.

A few moments later, the young lapin with dreams of being a policewoman managed to get on top of the behicle. She then crawled forward, inch-by-inch before slid forward onto the front windshield. " _ **STOP THE TRUCK**_!" She yelled at both of her folks in the tiny riding space.

" **AAAAAHHHHHHH**!" Her parents screamed as her father slammed both of his big bunny feet on the brakes so hard that the tailgate lifted up and launched poor Bellweather up and over the truck and into a pile of soft, wet, and rather disgustingly smelly dirt with a massive splat!

Seeing the state the poor bovidae woman was left in, the young rabbit brought both her paws up to her face to stifle a gasp. Lowering them, she stared with wide-eyes as the woman laid there, twitching. "Oh my gosh!" Judy finally managed to say before jumping off the Ford. She then ran over to Miss Bellwether, feeling slightly relieved as the other woman had begun to sit up in the mess. "Miss Bellwether! Are you okay?"

Trying to wipe off her mud-covered glasses with the side of her hooves to clear them enough for some vision, the sheep looked up at the lapin lady, feeling slightly pleased that she was worried about her. "Yeah... I'll be fine," she replied knowing she'd gone through far worse than this when it came to taking care of things for Zootopia City Hall. "Thankfully all this mud softened my fall."

Upon hearing that, the gray-furred female rabbit came closer... and cringed, needing to take a step back as she caught a whiff of the smell. "Miss Bellwether, ma'am? I hate to tell you this but that's not mud." Taking another step back to get fresher air, she explained, "That's manure."

Blinking her eyes once, twice, the sheep slowly removed her manure-covered glasses outright to stare at the young bunny and the rabbits who were just starting to exit the pickup. "...Say what?" She squeaked out, hoping that her hearing had been playing tricks on her there.

The driver's side window rolling down, the Patriarch of the Hopps family called out, "It's like my daughter said... you see, we're in Cowslip County! This is the area where a lot of Zootopia's dairy goods are produced and that means a lot of feral cows... and feral cows make... well..." he reached his left arm out of the side and motioned to the sheep. "Well they just don't have the common decency us evolved animals do to use a toilet, you know?"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" The woman called out in the proper sense, forgoing the generally acceptable rodent style of cursing in as brutal a manner as possible. An absolute disgusted and horrified appearance crossed her face. "I... I can't even... I... I..." she stammered, ready to go into a full mental meltdown.

Taking a deep breath, the woman stood by the passenger's side of the pickup and leaned in, reaching into the floor space. "Good thing we got some water." Mr. Hopps said as his wife pulled out a couple gallon jugs from the floor of the car. "Miss Bellwether, could you step away from the, 'cowpie'. We'll help wash it off."

"You... you will?" She looked at him hopefully as she stood up and carefully stepped out of the manure pile. "Why would you... how would you..." the Assistant Mayor trailed off, not sure if she should second-guess this show of hospitality.

Coming up beside the smaller sheep, the matronly lapin smiled. "We're always prepared," Mrs. Hopps explained to her. "Sometimes the radiator needs some water and sometimes you're working outside all day and need something to drink. We always carry about five gallons of water in this thing. Now we don't have much in the way of soap to help with the smell but hopefully..." she grunted as she began to lift the jug. "An impromptu shower will wash off the worst of it."

Jumping off the top of the pickup and into the flatbed, the daughter of the pair of farming rabbit opened her suitcase before pulling out a set of overalls her father made her pack. "It might not be much but you can have this. It'll be something clean you can change into for the ride," the gray-furred lagomorph replied as she held the garment up so it was in view of the poor manure-covered wooly woman's line of sight.

Looking up at the country clothing, the petite bovidae nodded her head. It was better than nothing to say the least. "Just hurry... please?" The sheep asked quietly, all but whimpering. The smell was really, **REALLY** bad and all she wanted to do was get it off of her, go home, shower and then shower some more, then sleep, then shower and hopefully she could actually _feel_ a little bit clean once more.

As the matronly lapin began to do just that, dousing the woman in a slow deluge of water, one thought tugged at the back of the wool-covered woman's mind.

This was all Lionheart's fault...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting in the front passenger seat of the orange '71 Ford Lobos Edition Econoline van with side panels decked out in the themes of the Latin America Aztec culture as it tore down the roads of the Canyonlands District, Carmelita's gaze darted about the bottom of the deep ravine they drove; a walls of stone at either side of them as they had a between pairs of slightly sloping cliffs. While the animal-made geo-tabling pattern along the surface of the escarpments stunningly mimicked natural erosion, the homes that were carved into the walls of the landscape proved that they were indeed artificially-created structures. As they travelled, the Interpol Inspector on loan to the ZPD noticed that despite being considered a secondary part of the Sahara Square District, there was a distinct lack of camels in the area. Instead, this area was filled with a numerous coyotes–most of whom were clothed in Native American fashion like the wife the couple who had been running the Cash Cow had been–a number of donkeys, Barbary sheep, llamas, and aardvarks as well as much smaller mammals walking along specially designated pathways along rocky outcroppings such as cape ground squirrels, meerkats, Mauritanian shrews, and North African gerbils to name a few. "I take it this is where all those who couldn't afford to stay in Sahara Square proper but needed the dryer environment ended up."

It wasn't a question.

Still, the Latina beauty got an answer. "You bet your fluffy tail it is," the vertically-challenged driver of the vehicle replied from where he sat beside the much larger vulpine he currently shared the couch-styled front seat with–but not the hemorrhoid donut. "The Canyonlands, while indeed its own district, is **still** considered a part of Sahara Square District; much like how the Downtown and Little Rodentia areas are to Savanna Central," he was quick to explain. "Also it helps that the camels aren't as developed physically for the rockier terrain as a number of other desert mammals are. Sure, the centralized Oasis area which surrounds the Golden Palm Resort has all the glitz, glamor, high-end businesses, and spacious luxury homes to smack unsuspecting visitors upside the head with but the Canyonlands? This is what's left of the _**real**_ Sahara; where all of the mammals who **had** been living down in the desert area ended up once the Saddle Arabians moved in and caused the value of their homes and more importantly, _**their taxes**_ to rise higher than they could hope to afford. Here is where you'll find all the mammals who can remember the days when their Districts were known as, 'Snakeway Sands' and 'Reptile Rocks'."

The currently-suspended policewoman twitched at that bit of information. It was yet another reminder of the crimes Zootopia had wantonly committed in its past. However, as important as the history of this place was for reminding the Hispanic woman of just why she had accepted aiding the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, the vixen was still a bit distracted. Sure, the truth behind what shaped the world going on around her was interesting to note but the vulpine with navy blue-tresses couldn't help but keep darting her eyes to her left, gazing at the mammal driving the vehicle. "Finnick?" She said the desert fox's name calmly, not wanting to upset him as he was a stubborn person but she wanted to make certain of something. "I appreciate you hauling us out here but are you _sure_ you don't want to let someone else drive? I mean..." her eyes darted further down to gaze upon the extra cushioning he was sitting atop. "You did have quite a stressful afternoon and this is quite the rocky road. I don't want you to end up hurt yourself further if it can be prevented."

His large ears flattening back, the petite predator grunted in irritation. "Listen here, Carmelita. I appreciate you worrying about me but here are three things we need to get straight," he began with a firm tone of voice. Despite her being a cop she had technically saved his life so he was willing to give her a pass. "First off, we call things like they are. In this case, I got shot in the ass! The paramedics shaved it, numbed it as best they could, and took the bullet out... before overwhelming me with a sensation that felt like a hot poker because frankly, I wasn't numbed enough for _that level of pain_!"

Her own ears pulling back against her scalp to where they practically disappeared into her hair, the female red fox could only tell him, "Lo siento, Finnick," the woman apologized to the tiny tod as he kept his hands on the wheel, keeping the vehicle steady as they made their way through the rocky terrain. "I just worry about you. I mean this isn't the best driving conditions and you're still recovering."

"That's the second thing," the fennec continued in response. "The van is my baby. No one else drives it, **period**. I had to hand-tool these damn gas and brake extension pedals with my own paws, so it's best suited for me and no one else. So yes, I'll handle it. I mean, that's what I got this fudgin' hemorrhoid donut for." His eyes darted to his right to look up at the larger vulpine and he smirked. "But hey, look at it this way, Miss Fox. If I ever and I mean _**ever**_ finally broke down and had to let someone else take a turn behind the wheel of my baby, there's a better chance of it being you than Wilde."

"Say what!?" A male voice called from the back. The head of the pawpsicle hustler came forward over the backrest, between both the female red fox and the male desert fox. "You can't mean that, Finnick! We've known each other for **decades** while you've only known Carmelita here a few days!" He brought his right arm up and thumbed over at the vixen. "You'd really trust her behind the wheel over me?"

Mr. Zerdan didn't even need to think before replying, "Yes."

Smiling a little, Carmelita couldn't help but bark out a laugh as the male red fox pouted. "Don't worry, Nicholas. If he knows you so well, it only means he cares about you."

Turning his head to the right to look at the lovely vixen, Nick couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in a questioning fashion. "No offense to you, my fine Officer Fox. You are a great police officer, the best I've ever known... but you obviously aren't as good a detective as you think you are if _that_ is the reason you came up with." The Hawaiian shirt-clad mammal didn't even need to check to see if his illegitimate business partner was nodding his head in agreement. The con-mammal merely knew the smaller predator was. After all, they were as in-sync as a pair of heterosexual business partners could get!

Really!

...

...That was his story and he was sticking to it!

Shaking her head good-naturedly at the pair of vulpine males, the Hispanic red fox replied, "Okay, okay... I get it. No need to drive home the fact in stereo," she told the pair with a slight hint of a teasing tone to her voice. "But tell me something, Finnick. What is the third thing I should know?"

"Right," the fennec began as the male red fox began to lean away from the backrest of the front seat. "The third and most important thing is to not worry about me. I might be small but don't underestimate me for a second, Miss Fox! When push comes to shove, I can handle myself. Hell, I've been doing it nearly all my life! I'm used to having the worst come my way and I know how to pick myself up. Getting shot in the ass hurt my wallet more than it did physically."

Once again, the smaller vulpine managed to catch the attention of his fellow canid con-mammal. "You sure?" Wilde chirruped from the back of the van. "You were screaming rather loudly back at the Cash Cow..." he brought up in a teasing fashion. "Hard to believe the hundred and fifty dollar bill they gave you for the on-the-spot surgery was all that terrible."

His lip curling back across the left side of his muzzle as he snarled, the petite predator's fingers clenched around the steering wheel tight enough to make the faux-leather exterior creak. Taking a deep breath to calm himself before he flipped out and did more damage to his rear in a tirade, he heatedly replied, "Oh shut your trap, Wilde! You of all animals should know better than that. We don't need to lose money to unnecessary stuff that could have been avoided!" In this case, the desert fox really, _really_ could have done without getting shot in the posterior.

Clasping his paws together, the tie-wearing vulpine made a steeple shape with his index fingers in front of his muzzle. Tapping his index fingers together, the male red fox mulled over that for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. "True enough, big guy," he honestly admitted. "I don't know if there's a heaven, I don't know if there's a hell, but what I do know is the only god that everyone worships around Zootopia is the almighty dollar."

That seemed to be what the smaller carnivore needed to hear; the large-eared fox's snarl shifting to a grin as he let out a hearty laugh much like the vixen had earlier. "Preach on, Brother Wilde!" Finnick chimed out merrily; the mammal calming down considerably. After all, he could rest easier whenever the other fox began to talk some sense. Those were the times when the desert fox didn't have to worry about the taller vulpine doing something stupid like sharing emotions or thinking... both of which were incredibly detrimental to their line of work.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Carmelita couldn't help but mutter under her breath, " _Dios bueno_..." as the pair laughed with each other over their shared love of cash. Switching back to English, the vulpine woman then spoke aloud, "Really? I can understand that things haven't always been the best for foxes in Zootopia but there's more to life than money." That was one thing she had to admit about the Cooper Gang. A lot of their thefts had nothing to do with the actual monetary value of their heists but the thrill of the challenge, the camaraderie shared, and the chance to make the world a better place in their own unique albeit highly illegal way. She didn't condone it but at least these days the Hispanic vixen could admit she understood the logic behind their actions. Nick and Finnick on the other paw, were a whole other kettle of fish. "I mean, when it comes down to it money can't buy an animal happiness."

"You're right about that Carm, it certainly can't," Nick admitted from behind her. Coming forward so he rested his arms atop the backrest of the van's front seat, the male red fox then brought his chin down atop of them so his head was right next to the lovely Latina lady's. "But the fact remains that it can buy a mammal peace of mind and a good night's sleep. In Zootopia, the simple rule of life is that cash is king of the concrete jungle."

Pumping his left arm, the tiny tod in the driver's seat couldn't help but merrily chime, "Testify! Testify!" Thank Gouda All-Bitey! Nick was finally starting to sound like his old self again! _And to think, all it took was a near-death experience_ , the fennec thought with an internal chuckle. Leave it to nearly kicking the bucket to put life into perspective.

The Hispanic red fox frowned at how both of her fellow foxes seemed okay with how their lives were. She found it odd after how Nick had been so forthcoming with her, but the off-duty police officer was willing to chalk it up to the fact that he had survived a violent armed robbery and was all of altruism for the time being after setting up the refurbishing of the coyote couple's store. Honestly, she was surprised Finnick was still his usual crass self despite actually having actually taken a bullet. _Better get them off this topic and onto something better_ , the vixen thought before speaking aloud, "So... tell me again why we're going to Tundratown when Savanna Central has at least two dozen pizza restaurants listed in the directory?"

"Because Largo's Pizza is the best in **all** of Zootopia," Finnick replied firmly. "Cherry introduced me to the place on our third date and I've only gone to other places out of convenience. But with the day I've had and the fact you're buying?" He chuckled in a rather devious fashion thanks to his deep baritone voice. "Oh, we're going to make a night of it!"

"Speaking of Cherry," the male red fox spoke up from where he leaned forward between the two sitting in the front seat. Idly scratching his chin with his upturned right hand, Wilde had to ask, "Did you manage to get ahold of her?"

A smile blossoming on his face, the desert fox nodded his head. "Yep!" He chirruped happily. "Her boss was kind enough to give her the night off after he heard what happened or something like that," the fennec explained. "She and her sisters should be meeting us there at some point." Turning his head to the right slightly, he gazed past his partner and zoned in on the vixen in the front seat with him. "I hope you don't mind that I invited my girlfriend and her sisters. I figured it would do you some good to meet a few more foxes." Well that and after what happened he **really** needed to cuddle up with his sweet Cherry more than anything.

The vixen opened her mouth to reply, only to wince at the bright light that suddenly blinded her as they pulled out of the Canyonlands District; the cliff-sides giving way to the arid open skies and sunny desert heat of Sahara Square. Carmelita had to raise her right hand, waving herself as the van's air-conditioner suddenly wasn't enough to combat the rising temperature–especially since she had been talked into dressing for colder climate and had a long-sleeve turtleneck shirt on underneath her jacket. Taking a moment to gather her wits, the vixen was quick to reply, "I don't mind. The more the merrier, I guess. It would be nice to meet a few more foxes." Females in particular too! She was curious as to how they had been fairing in Zootopia, all things considered.

"Great!" Finnick replied, the mammal the happiest the Latina vulpine had seen him, causing her to wonder if he suffered from bipolar personality disorder. "I think you two are going to get along great! Cherry is a sweetheart in every sense of the word! Despite how bleak things can get, she's always looking on the bright side, unafraid to call things out for what they are while being bright and cheery!"

A chuckle reverberating in his throat, Nicholas interjected, "Basically, she's sweet enough for two people and they happen to balance each other out quite nicel~ **EEEE**!" The male red fox cried out as he fell back, bringing both his hands over his nose after the desert fox smacked him with the back of his right first.

"Don't distract the driver, Wilde," was the fennec's response as he brought his paw back to the steering wheel as he turned them onto a more crowded lane of traffic. There was a haze wafting in the air just above the asphalt road from how hot it was getting but fortunately, the presence of numerous _expensive_ vehicles was helping to cut through it. "And remember to sit down and buckle your seatbelt when the vehicle is in motion. Standing up is just unsafe!"

Needless to say, Carmelita was quite alarmed at that. Turning about in her seat as much as she could to the left, the vulpine woman looked over her shoulder at her fellow red fox. Seeing him on the floor and realizing he'd been truly knocked on his butt. "Nick! Are you all right?" She asked, genuinely worried for the man. She had seen the desert fox punch the man now and then before but that had been a genuine attack. That was something the vixen couldn't let stand!

Rubbing his nose for a few more moments, the fox in a green Hawaiian shirt lowered his right hand as he heatedly told his shady business partner, "You don't have any seatbelts back here. It's a mini-bachelor pad!" He sniffled audibly to clear his nostrils; the fox's nose twitching left and right as he did so. Realizing the good Inspector was still staring at him, the crimson-pelted canid was quick to assure her with a plea, "Hey now, you don't have to worry about me. I'm used to his temper tantrums by now."

Realizing that Nicholas was okay, the off-duty ZPD officer turned her attention back to the much smaller vulpine. Seeing the unrepentant expression on his face, the Latina beauty frowned in irritation. "Finnick!" The vixen snapped his name angrily. "I can't believe you just hit Nick like that! He was just making a joke! A joke!" When no answer was forthcoming, the orange-pelted predator sighed as she realized he was being petulant about the whole thing. So taking a deep breath and counting backwards, Carmelita began to talk once more, this time in a much calmer fashion. "Look, Mr. Zerdan. I know you've had a rough day but you can't just go hitting your friends like that! That strike went beyond being simple friendly macho posturing."

Continuing to drive the van through the desert traffic, the tiny tod tapped his fingers along the rim of his steering wheel, stalling for time as he considered what she said. "I know I have a bit of an anger problem but you said it yourself. This is not my day. So please, let's just drop it like I dropped Wilde before he could become more of an asshole than his usual _charming_ self and just look forward to the pizza we have ahead of us." He took a sharp turn off the left of the road he was using, causing Nick to yelp out in the back as he went rolling.

Leaning forward and putting her hands to the dashboard to steady herself, the vixen had to grit her teeth. _Don't get angry with him_ , she reminded herself. _These guys have had it harder than you. Obviously this is just a coping mechanism. He and Nick will be fine. Just don't try and push his buttons further or else he'll get us all killed_ , the Latina vixen mentally told herself before settling back into her seat as the ride got smoother. She raised an eyebrow as she looked ahead to the windshield and saw they were heading to the climate wall. _At least we're almost there_ , she thought with some measure of growing relief.

Coming forward and leaning over the backrest of the front seat once more, the male red fox looked down at his buddy with a raised eyebrow. "I take it jokes concerning Cherry are now off the table?" He chirruped. "Honestly, I didn't realize you loved her that much. I think you actually hit me harder than you normally do when I make any wisecracks about your height." He chuckled as he quipped, "I didn't think you could get any shorter with me."

Rolling her eyes, the vixen let off a small sigh of relief. The attack must have looked worse than it actually was if the man was already trying to bait his partner almost immediately. _Well, either that or he's just used to such abuse by now_ , she thought sadly.

Understandably, all the fennec could say in response as they entered the tunnel was, "Smartass." He would have taken the time to smack the taller fox once again, but the policewoman was getting antsy and he needed to keep his attention on the road now. Once they got through, he was going to be on the ice roads of Zootopia's most frigid district. Being a desert mammal himself, the heated arid atmosphere of Sahara Square felt more like home than anywhere else in the city-state–even with all those darn camels around! On that same note, it always felt like he was going into an alien world whenever he had to come to this icy hell but he would cross it and back if it meant getting to spend time with his girl.

Finally exiting out on the other side of the tunnel that went straight through the climate wall that separated the two truly opposite districts, the Ford Lobos van came out into the Tundratown side of things. Finnick frowned because, as usual, the cold weather was in full effect to cater to the various mammals whom thrived in such an environment; the snow machines currently going full blast to give the locals a nice snow-storming atmosphere at the moment. "Snow..." he grumbled irritably. "Always snow."

"Well, it makes sense," the female vixen to his right chirruped. "I mean, the entirety of the district–including the buildings–is made of ice. Shoot, even the fountain at the plaza releases a deluge of snow rather than water." She had taken a trip a couple of days ago with Benjamin as part of her tour of Zootopia but now that McHorn had filled her in on a few things, the actual look to the icy part of the city made sense. Yes, the number of the roofs looked like pieces of glaciers that fell off the granddaddy that sank the Titanic, and the streets were no better than crevasses in a sheet of snow but there was also **a lot** of Russian influence to be had. Particularly the cues from Imperial Russia she could see dominating the landscape as a lot of the carved ice roofs were the onion domes of the Kremlin that were luxuriously decorated in the baroque style that Catherine the Great was a fan of. It also didn't hurt that the Russian Renaissance was known for constructing their important buildings, as a rule, from white brick or whitestone; snow making an excellent substitute for such. And one of the few things that weren't snow, in this case the windows, were the circular stain-glass artworks that were notably used during the Russian Byzantine revival in church architecture.

Really, Carmelita was almost expecting the State Anthem of the Russian Federation to start playing over hidden loudspeakers at any moment.

Well, either that or Eskimo penguins would show up and fight the local polar bears in an epic battle that included spears, trout, and caviar.

Why the thought about something like that, the vixen had no clue. However, it was a rather amusing mental image all the same.

Eventually, the van started to come to another icy section of the Tundratown District, one that she was surprised to see was a bit more... colorful. Of course, the expanse of white was predominant but there were a few splashes of red and green, making the vixen think of the Christmas season. What truly stood out to the Latina fox, surprisingly enough, was the fact that she could see a number of mammals in the open that **weren't** indigenous to the frozen North. A number of ursine citizens that weren't the polar variety were trudging about as well as a few elephants... the pachyderms all decked out in very thick winter coats and heavily-padded jackets and pants. Mammals that had the body mass to help them withstand the cold.

"And welcome to Tundratown's, 'Little Italy'," Nicholas said as he leaned over the front seat of the van once more, pleased to see the awe in the vixen's lovely face. "I mean, sure! It might seem like nothing compared to Zootopia's real Little Italy up in the Canal District but they made a nice little satellite area all the way out here."

Considering that little tidbit of information, Carmelita chirruped, "Well Northern Italy is rather mountainous. There is a lot of colder culture associated with the country that most mammals don't think about because of all the usual stereotypes that are entrenched in the ZSA culture thanks to movies like the Dogfather. It's really no surprise that some of it would have taken root here in the coldest part of Zootopia."

Hearing the woman talk about a certain film caught the smaller driver's attention. "Oh? You know that movie?" Finnick asked, slightly surprised that a cop would enjoy a story that practically romanticized the concept of organized crime.

A small smile graced the vixen's muzzle. "Yes, it's a classic," Carmelita said as she nodded to him. When he continued to stare at her, the Hispanic vulpine raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you think that Europeans don't get those movies?"

The desert fox immediately shook his head. "No, no... it's just..." he trailed off, stumbling over words for a moment. Taking a breath to get a moment to gather his thoughts, the tiny told replied, "I know how hard it is to get good movies from one area of the world to another." Oh yes, he could remember how it took over eight years for that one movie that he had wanted that was in Japan to come out in Zootopia. By the time it did, the box office receipts were horrendous because the interest had died down, preventing the others in the series to get released out West. _At least there's piracy_ , he thought with relief.

Thinking of which, he really needed to catch up with Duke to see what the bootlegger had in stock these days. It had been awhile since he checked out the weasel's wares and he might find something to interest Cherry and him with for an evening.

Still, that was something he could do that later. Seeing a snowy structure that had the Italian flag flapping in the wind as it hung by the door on a horizontal mast, the fennec pulled the van up into one of the open parking spaces long the frozen curbside. "All right, people! We're here!" He chirruped, refraining from turning off his vehicle for the time being to give them a few more moments to appreciate the heater. "Wilde! Hand me my jacket!"

"Sure, sure," the male red fox replied as he withdrew from the backrest of the front passengers' seat. Turning about and gazing around the smaller vulpine's homestead, he caught sight of a yellow ski jacket–child's size, naturally–crumbled up in the corner. Picking it up, he flapped it out a few times to straighten it out. "Is it this yellow thing?" He called out to the front of the '71 Ford Lobos where the other two were.

"Yeah!" Finnick called out in response. There was no way he was going out there **without** his jacket on. Considering his desert-acclimated biology, he ran the risk of freezing to death in the literal sense! True, he wouldn't mind seeing some females go without a jacket–it was always a nice reaction when they got blasted by cold after all–and if he was honest with himself, that was part of what drew him so strongly to Cherry in the first place. As this was her neighborhood, well... she went in more natural, conservative clothes. To think, a desert mammal like him would end up with an arctic mammal like her. The Gods **must** have been screwing with them but he wasn't going to complain.

So taking the jacket from his illegitimate business partner, the fennec settled himself within the warming depths of it. "All right, last call! We all ready for Largo's Pizza?" He called out to the pair in the van with him as he zipped himself up.

"Hell yes, we are!" Nick cheered. With the afternoon they had, they had missed lunch and then had kept working! Oh yes, he **earned** this pizza. "Don't forget to bring your hemorrhoid donut with you! Soft as some of those seats are, I doubt your rear could handle it right now."

Twitching at the reminder, the petite predator glared at the smarmy red fox. Yes, Zerdan knew he would have to, but did his jerk of a fellow con-mammal have to bring it up? "Just watch yourself. You keep this up and I just might kick you hard enough that you'll need one too!"

"You'd break your foot, dislocate your hips, and need a trip to the ER for a month if you did that." Nick shot back, grinning as Finnick's ears flattened at that. Ah, the wonders of being taller. Maybe that was why the little guy managed to get along so well with Carmelita. With her height, he didn't even fool himself into thinking he could put on a show of dominance.

"..." The fennec continued to twitch in irritation, unable to come up with a good comeback. _Screw it. Maybe that near death experience was the worst thing for my fellow con-mammal_ , he decided before turning to his right to look up at the taller female fox. When he realized he had her attention, the sandy-furred vulpine gazed at her with a raised eyebrow. "...Miss Fox, do you mind smacking my partner for me?"

Considering that for a moment, a small smile played on the vixen's lips. "No thank you, Finnick. As much as I would have fun with that, I have a feeling Nick might appreciate it far too much."

A wide blossomed on the Hawaiian-shirted vulpine's features. "Guilty as charged," the pawpsicle hustler shot back as he let off another laugh. "Now come on, people! We need to do less talking and eat more pizza!"

Nodding her head in agreement, the Latina beauty replied, "Excellent idea." So saying, the vixen with navy blue tresses reached to her right and opened the passenger's side door to Mr. Zedan's van and jumped out, her boots causing snow to scatter as her feet firmly planted against the ground. Turning about to close the door behind her, she then made her way up to the entrance of the establishment, her ears twitching as she could already pick up the sound of Italian music playing from inside; the windows alit with a warm and welcoming glow of light. It seemed like a nice place from the outside at least.

Upon opening the door and entering the pizzeria, Carmelita found herself genuinely surprised to say the least. While she had been expecting the whole structure to be carved of ice and snow, like Officer Clawhauser had said a number of the places around here were, this restaurant in particular had stone walls and wooden floors on the interior. Solid, stable materials that were more along the lines of what she was used to!

Seeing the mixed expression of confusion and relief on the vixen's face as he came in after her, Nicholas couldn't help but allow a mischievous smile to play across his muzzle. "While I understand you _might_ have been expecting something a bit more on the chilly side of things, I believe you should know that not all of the Tundratown District plays to the completely frozen stereotype. In the places that have to deal with a lot of heat and/or are run by animals who _don't_ originate from the Arctic Circle, they like to use more traditional materials for structural foundations and building frames to increase the integrity of the structure's stability. So in a place that needs a hot oven for cookking, you're definitely going to need a lot of stone to make sure the place doesn't come crashing down on us."

The vulpine woman nodded her head, acknowledging what her fellow red fox was telling her. "That's good," Carmelita murmured as she continued to gaze around the restaurant, seeing so many tables and chairs and booths... all of which had a well-used look to them. "So where are we going to—"

" **Finny**!" A female voice suddenly yelled out, interrupting the suspended policewoman's inquiry and causing the trio to turn in time to see the source of the cry being a female Arctic fox; the white-pelted vulpine woman running up to them. "Oh, my poor baby!" She cried out as she gave the smaller carnivore a tight hug. "I hope you're not hurting too much."

The tall Hispanic vixen blinked her eyes as a lovely white-pelted female vulpine got down to her knees and embraced the smaller fox... although admittedly the woman wasn't that much bigger than the fennec, possibly only a head taller than him. It made female red fox chuckle as she realized that they had a full set of head heights with this new girl added to the mix: Finnick, then this girl, followed by Nick, and finally herself. "So Finnick," the Interpol beauty piped up. "I take it this is the infamous, 'Cherry' I keep hearing about?" She queried as the two continued to hug and cuddle there, the tundra vixen practically dragging the desert fox to the floor atop his circular cushion.

Realizing his somewhat-pal was in no condition to answer, the taller male vulpine happily supplied the information Carmelita. "Of course," Nick answered. "I admit, when I first met her, I was half-expecting her to have more of a reddish coat after hearing her name." Still, at least Cherry was a nice gal even if a bit ditzy at times. Completely unlike her sister—

"Wilde," A gruff female voice spoke up from beside him.

It took everything he had to suppress the shudder he could feel wanting to squirm its way up his spine. "...Angeline..." the male fox greeted through slightly gritted teeth. "Pleased to meet you. I wasn't expecting you to join us tonight." Green eyes carefully watching as the woman retrieved a package of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse, he queried, "Since you're here, does that mean..." he trailed off, not sure he should talk about the third sister in front of Carmelita.

Nodding her head in affirmation to the man's unspoken inquiry, the Arctic vixen replied, "Yes, Wilde. Vanilla is here too." She thumbed over to one of the tables. "We couldn't exactly get real time off on such short notice but we were able to be given the task to take Morris out for dinner. Been awhile since he's had pizza and his father couldn't say no to him when he asked." Even as she said that, Angeline looked at the taller vixen and then back at Nick. Her icy blue eyes shifted back and forth between the two for a moment before a small but insidious smile actually curled on her muzzle. "Well, well... new girl, huh? This promises to be a rather... fun night for you... won't it, Nicky?"

Hearing the shorter woman say something as cryptic as that, Carmelita raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "...Pardon?" She asked, wanting to know what the other woman was getting at.

Flicking at the trigger of her lighter a few times to get a flame going, the vixen used her other hand to slip a cigarette free from the package that was hanging out the open top of her purse. "Oh, it's nothing much really. I just can't wait to see how he screws things up _this_ time."

Watching as the woman lit a cigarette for herself, both Nick and Carmelita went flush with embarrassment at what she was insinuating. While Wilde found himself stammering in denial, it was the female red fox who more sternly answered, "We're not like that. Nicholas is a friend and has been helping me get settled in Zootopia since I arrived."

The lithe and lovely Arctic fox nodded her head at that explanation. "Ah, so you're like my eldest sister; check him out and see how much of a loser he is so you don't get drawn into that hot mess that is, 'walking the Wilde side'. Good on you, girl..." she trailed off thoughtfully as she genuinely praised the woman. She then finally lit her cigarette before taking a solid drag.

Raising an eyebrow as she watched the other female fox exhale a cloud of smoke shaped in a perfect ring, the Inspector from Interpol slowly turned her head to look over at her fellow red fox. "...'Take a walk on the Wilde side'?" She queried in a most curious fashion, wanting to know the story behind _**that**_ statement.

His shoulders sagging as he let off a small groan, the male vulpine couldn't help but cringe at having that quote thrown back in his face. "Don't ask... I was desperate at the time," Nick groused, shaking his head in dismay.

And that was when he heard it. A familiar, melodious female voice call out, "Nicholas P. Wilde? Is that you?"

Going stiff as a board, the crimson-pelted canid turned about to see that yes, the eldest of the triplets was indeed there. "Hello, Vanilla..." he greeted her nervously as he held up his right paw and waved at her in a nervous greeting. Technically the last in a long line of girlfriends, even if they were never officially together... but it made him feel nervous to have her in the same place as Carmelita all the same.

And he wasn't sure why.

Offering him a gentle smile, the white-furred vixen with black paws looked up at him with those icy blue eyes she shared with her identical twin sisters. "You're looking well. Are you finally eating better?" She asked curiously as her eyes darted over his frame, noticing he seemed to be putting on enough weight that she didn't see the outline of his ribs. "I was always worried about your eating habits." Left unsaid was, 'there's more to life than top ramen'.

Catching onto the woman's worry for his health, the canid male brought his right paw up behind his head and scratched the back of his neck. "Eh... just a little bit, I guess." Honestly, Nick wasn't sure **how** to respond and this was starting to get kind of awkward.

An awkwardness that was fortunately broken by the cry of, "UNCLE NICKY!"

It was that moment Wilde found himself tackled to the floor by 80 lbs. of polar bear cub muscle. "OOPH" The fox yelped as he was being hugged by a bear that was as big as he was if not an inch or two taller. Blinking his eyes, it took a moment for the mammal but he realized he recognized the younger predator. "...Morris?" He laughed as the cub hugged righter. "Well I'll **be**! It is you, squirt! You got BIG!" He praised as the kid moved them to a sitting position, the young ursine still holding tight.

Nodding his head excitedly, the youth replied, "Yep! I haven't seen you in forever, Uncle Nicky! How come you don't come by Papa's no more? I miss playing with you and Uncle Finny!"

"Ah, we've just been really busy, scamp," Nick reassured him. "It's not like I'm trying to avoid you or your family, we just haven't been able to find time to come up," he told the young polar bear who was so much larger than the last time he saw him. "Cripes though... you're getting bigger kid! Last I saw you, you were as sm— _big_ as Finnick!" He chirruped, correcting himself so he didn't set off his partner.

Blinking his eyes, the kid let up on his hug. "Where is Uncle Finny?" He chirruped as he began to look around... only to pause as his eyes were drawn to the tall vixen he had missed seeing earlier. "And who is this pretty lady?" He asked as he gazed upon the new fox in awe. He couldn't place it but there was just something about her that looked familiar...

Carmelita smiled at him. "Hola, my name is Carmelita Fox. I'm pleased to meet you, young one," she said as she bent down slightly to offer him her hand in greeting.

Finally releasing his hold of the male fox outright, the young polar bear reached out and took her offered mitt into both his paws. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Fox! Do you want to have dinner with us? Papa gave us money for pizza!" He chirruped in excitement.

Smiling, the Hispanic vixen told the white-furred predator cub in a sweet voice, "That is very generous of you but I promised I would pay for my friends' pizza. Still, if you don't mind sharing a table we would be more than happy to eat with you and the others." She looked up past the boy and gazed about at the trio of Arctic vixens. "That is, if you ladies don't mind?"

Considering that offer for a moment, Angeline shrugged nonchalantly in response. They had arrived so Cherry could have some more time with her boyfriend, but she wouldn't mind. Why, this would be amusing as all hell!

"I'd be happy too!" Cherry chirruped ever as sweetly as her name implied, standing up so she could allow Finnick to get off the icy-cold floor of the Italian eatery. "We got a big booth to use; more than enough room for all of us."

Nodding her head, the eldest sister replied, "Sure. I wouldn't mind." She smiled in the direction of the orange-pelted vulpine. "In fact, it would give us a chance to get to know Miss Fox here," she said pointedly. She was rather curious as to the story behind her and Wilde.

Realizing they were all going to be eating together and have a chance to compare their own experienced with him, Nick mentally groaned. Oh, this was going to be a lo~ooong night.

He almost hoped there would be an interruption.

Fortunately, the male red fox got one in the form of the owner of the pizza parlor coming out from the back of the restaurant to greet the group. The bright chocolate-colored fur of the Marsican brown bear in dress shirt, jeans, and apron stood out considerably against the bright white and snow of the cold environment the eatery was built. "He~ _eeeeeeeey_! I thought I heard some familiar voices!" He laughed as he clapped his paws together. "Looks like little Morris and all the foxes are here tonight..." he trailed off as his gaze was drawn to the tallest vixen among the group. "Plus one!" He bent forward slightly, practically crowding the off-duty Interpol Inspector. "And who may I ask are you, lovely lady?"

Smiling, Wilde nodded his head. Yes, this would certainly do. "Matteo!" He addressed the large ursine. "It's always good to see you get your butt out of the kitchen! And good timing too," he praised the larger predator as he motioned over to his fellow red fox. "I would like to introduce you to my friend, Miss Carmelita Fox. Carm? This is Matteo Largo, the proprietor of Largo's Pizza."

Gazing up at the Italian mammal, the vixen nodded her head. "Hola," Carmelita said in greeting as she smiled at the bear. "This is a lovely place you have here. The place actually managed to surprise me when I first walked in." It was still a bit odd to her, but she wasn't going to complain, it was pretty nice inside and warmer than she expected it to be.

Smiling, the large bear took her right hand into both his massive paws and lifted it up; the man craning his head to kiss the back of her mitt. "Grazie, bella volpe! Grazie!" Releasing her paw, the portly predator straightened up to his full height. "It took a bit of doing but we Italians are slowly but surely carving our own little niche in the ice of Tundratown." He motioned about the establishment with a wave of his massive, muscled arm. "This place? It's my passione! I worked very hard to make it a nice hangout for the locals and it's begun to catch on with the locals quite nicely." As much as they loved their cold homes, everyone enjoyed a hot meal.

"My, my... such a gentlemammal!" Carmelita smiled while bringing her free hand up to her cheek. "But, yes, I can see that." The Latina vulpine replied as she looked around the restaurant once more. "It feels nice and cozy in here." Which in her opinion, was as plus. Most places to eat felt like they were just a place to sit down, have a meal, and get going instead of a place one could sit and have a discussion about anything or hang out to relax with friends and loved ones.

"Thank you for the compliment and may I say it's nice to meet you. Are you Nicholas' new girlfriend?" He queried innocently. With his attention on the vixen before him, he completely missed the horrified expression on the male red fox's face... although his ear did twitch at the sound of Angeline laughing in a most fiendish fashion. Ugh! That sound always sent chills down his spine worse than the cold could manage.

To her credit, Inspector Fox just smiled and blushed slightly. "No, I'm not his girlfriend," she said calmly, feeling a little sad that the portly bear seemed to pout at that; obviously he was the romantic sort of anima. "I will admit that he is a great person to have around if you need some help."

Cherry nodded her head in agreement to that statement and chirruped, "He is quite the handymammal. A real Mr. Fix-It in all ways... except plumbing. The guy can't handle plumbing to save his life," she said in all seriousness as she continued to cuddle with her desert fox boyfriend. "Unlike my Finny-pooh, here! Finny is **GREAT** with plumbing!"

Smirking deviously at the set-up her sister unintentionally made for her, the middle child of the Arctic vixen triplets took a deep drag of her cigarette to gather her wits. Taking a moment to exhale, she then added, "Very. Wilde is so bad with plumbing that he gets it flowing in reverse," she teased deviously.

The youngest sister nodded her head, innocently replying, "Yep, it's true! Last time he tried, he caused the opening to just reject that flaccid wienie outright! Spat it out hard and fast, that it was just a _useless_ effort on our part to try and get it back in there!" She said, remembering when that tofu hotdog first got stuck in there and clogged the sink drain. Although that reversed garbage disposal now made for an _excellent_ impromptu snow maker at parties. Throw a block of ice in and ta-dah! Instant snow!

The middle sister snickered at hearing that one. "Oh yes! I remember how he screwed it up so badly that it only accepted tacos instead of wienies."

"Um... what?" The youngest sister chirruped, sounding confused as her elder sister smirked at her. The Arctic vixen considered that and remembered the event. "Ah! You're right!" That was how they discovered it worked as a great ice-shaver. In trying to prove he had 'fixed' it, the man had thrown out a half-eaten burrito that had been in the back of the fridge for two weeks. "I just Wilde would have stayed to clean up the mess he made."

A smile firmly plastered on her muzzle, the middle-child of the vixen triplets nodded her head. "Yep! He just the sort that can't stay to make things right," Angel replied. Oh by Gouda, how she **loved** her younger sister's naivety sometimes. And the way that Finnick was laughing his furry–or half-furred if the story about one cheek being shaved for surgery was indeed true–butt off let her know that at least someone could appreciate comedy done at the expense of the so-called 'Slick Nick'.

His shoulders sagging as his head lowered in defeat, the male vulpine let out a small, sad, exasperated sigh. "Could we... could we stop, please? Animals are staring," Nick muttered, rubbing his forehead with his right paw. He REALLY didn't want to be reminded of his past failures like this.

Especially not in front of Carmelita.

As if sensing the dread the man was feeling, the taller Hispanic vixen took a step towards her fellow red fox, gently placing her left hand on his shoulder. "There, there..." the taller woman cooed, trying to let Nicholas know it was all right. "If it makes you feel any better, my boyfriend wasn't all that good with plumbing either."

Yep, that was Sly Cooper. Master Thief, Gentlemammal Criminal, Suave Charmer, Interpol Elite... and the Shittiest Mr. Fix-It that ever lived! Within the first two months of living together, it had become rather obvious to her that Bentley was definitely the brains of the operation!

At least the turtle was kind enough to fix the toilet in the guest bathroom for her once Sly went missing.

Angeline fell over laughing as she heard that. She wasn't sure if Carmelita knew what they were talking about, but it was way too funny with the previous context.

Nick blinked his bright green eyes once, twice, _thrice_. He also didn't know if Miss Fox was playing along with the context of the Arctic vixen's prank or being honest but either way... it gave him hope! Blushing enough that it managed to add a glow to his already crimson facial fur, the pawpsicle hustler managed to reply, "Uh... thank you, Carm. That actually helps."

"No problem, Nicholas," the Latina vulpine gave his shoulder a squeeze before release it. "Now then, ladies?" She chirruped as she looked over to the trio of white-furred vixens. "Where were you sitting again?"

"Over there," the eldest reminded her, Vanilla raising her left paw and pointing at the circular booth in the furthest right corner of the room. "One of the biggest tables here; enough room for everyone."

"The best table if you ask me," the Marsican brown bear spoke up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to head back to the kitchen! Some of the staff can't tell mozzarella from parmesan! Ciao for now!" He chirruped as he waved at the gathered customers before heading through the set of double doors and into the back of the restaurant once more.

Gazing at the rounded table, the Hispanic beauty nodded her head. "Works for me," Carmelita replied as she and the rest of the group made their way over there. The trio of vixens started lining into the center while letting the polar bear cub take one of the ends in general. Then Finnick entered from the opposite end, making certain he sat next to Cherry while Nick followed and then the line was capped off by Inspector Fox at the opposite end of the booth. She took hold of one of the menus that had been left atop the table and began to peruse it. "So, did you all have a chance to order anything yet?"

Looking past her boyfriend and to the tall red fox on the end of the booth, Cherry answered, "We ordered some mozzarella sticks with marinara sauce for an appetizer but we haven't decided on a pizza yet."

The Arctic fox sitting next to the young polar bear nodded her head. "Yes, we were waiting for you all to arrive before we made any final decision," Vanilla explained. "Cherry told us you would be joining and we wanted to take your desires into consideration as well." She looked at the tall vulpine woman and queried, "Especially since Finnick mentioned that you would want to help pay." She had to admit, that was rather generous. She obviously didn't know how much ursine mammals could pack away; particularly children.

Nodding her head, Carmelita told her fellow female fox, "It's true. I felt bad for what these two had to go through today so I offered to treat them to dinner. Imagine my surprise when they told me they simply wanted pizza." Her eyes began darting around the parlor. "Although I will admit, this does look like a good place to get a pie."

"Matteo sells pies here too," Cherry chirruped, causing Carmelita to blink her eyes in surprise. "Apple, raisin-custard, pumpkin, rhubarb..."

That response made the tallest of the vixens at the table blink her chocolate eyes in surprise. "At a pizza place?" When she had said, 'pie' she meant it as slang for pizza... to hear the Italian eatery offered genuine pie was surprising!

"Yep!" The youngest of the triplets nodded her head at Inspector Fox's dumbfounded question. "Seasonal only though, and they don't make that many at a time but holidays **always** have a couple flavors of pie available." She smiled wider. "Mr. Largo makes them deep-dish style as if they were Chicago pizza to appease those who want that style of food without having to go against their instincts of making their pizzas New York style. Flat and fluffy!" She chirruped.

Smiling at the female Arctic fox's practically infectious positive attitude, the vixen with navy blue tresses couldn't help but comment, "I'm beginning to understand why you and Finnick are a thing."

If possible, the smile on the Arctic vixen's muzzle brightened. "Of course! Because my Finny-poo has the nicest, most squeezable a—"

" **AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH**!" The desert fox screamed at the top of his lungs as he practically jumped atop his hemorrhoid donut.

Blushing immensely as she quickly withdrew her grabby paw, the youngest of the vixen triplets cried, "Oh I'm so sorry, Finny! I didn't mean to! It just happens on reflex whenever I think of your cutie-booty!"

It took every ounce of self-control he had but Nick managed to fight back the urge to laugh at his partner's expense. He knew it would be cruel but God! Karma was such a wonderful bitch sometimes. _I really should feel bad but after all the teasing he puts me through? It's kind of enjoyable to see_ , he thought deviously. The male red fox might not have enjoyed the fact his friend was suffering but that didn't mean the predator couldn't get some entertainment out of WHY it happened. Even better, there was no way the fennec would bring himself to yell at Cherry so he was safe to revel in his amusement without the usual rant follow-up.

However, as everyone was focused on the poor desert fox's abused rear, Carmelita's ears twitched as she heard the jingle of the bell set at the door. While she only meant to give a perusing glance to see who was entering, the Latina vulpine turned her gaze fully towards the group in seconds. While most mammals would have ignored the quartet of polar bears in black track suits with colored piping an highlights as just a few more patrons, each one was setting off the vixen's Inspector's Intuition.

In particular, the orange lights that danced in her vision were garnered on the crown logos that were adorned into their jackets over the left pectoral; an image she immediately recognized as the logo on the business card Mr. Manchas had given her. However, more alarming was that the glowing sparkles were making an outline of handguns hidden within their clothes.

Tensing up, the female red fox turned to her Arctic sistren and whispered to them, "Is there another way out of here besides the front door?"

"There's the emergency exit over there to the right," Vanilla answered as she motioned to the side, confusion in her voice. "Plus there's got to be a couple in the kitchen as well in case of a fire. I think the windows back there come off if needed too. Why?"

"Get Morris out of here, those guys are armed," she whispered to the eldest of the trio as she began to grip one of the utensils on the place setting before here. She was internally cursing herself for leaving her shock pistol at home but she could make do in an emergency. Carmelita knew she was more than just her weapon.

"Seriously?" Nick whispered as he looked over the top of the booth at the group... only to grimace as he recognized them. "Dang it."

Hearing the decidedly negative tone to Wilde's voice, the vixen's features pulled back into a frown. "What is it?"

"They're Big's men..." the male red fox muttered, causing the Zootopia natives to stiffen and suddenly realize what had gotten the Latina vulpine so alarmed. "The one with the blue pipelining and the gold dollar sign necklace is Raymond; a part of the Mr. Big goon patrol."

Carmelita nodded her head. Now she at least had a name, and it sounded like a criminal organization at least. What she didn't know was that was actually the name on their 'business' card that they gave to certain mammals.

Before she could ask Nick how he knew these people, the polar bear with yellow in his uniform homed in on the group instantly, his deep-set eyes focusing on the cub at the end of the booth. "You!" He shouted as he motioned towards them. "Stay where you are!" He shouted as he and the others started to rush towards the seating area; all of them sticking their hands into pockets the vixen knew had firearms in them.

Gritting her teeth, the vulpine hissed at the vixens, "You guys get out of here now! I'll handle this!" She said as she pushed herself out of the booth. She might have only been armed with a knife and a fork but in all honesty, she had worked with less before.

Oh yes... she wasn't sure why these bears were here but one thing was certain: she was going to show them why she was tops at the Paris Branch of Interpol.

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 **Author's Notes** : Clawhauser said it best: "Oh... em... GOODNESS!"

Seriously, this chapter was a pill to get out on time and I still didn't get it out first thing. With the new baby in the family, it's really cutting into my writing time. I will do my best to keep to bi-weekly the schedule I set for myself but I think I'm at the point where it will no longer be posted first thing in the morning. I was working right up to the moments before posting.

Seriously, a huge shout-out to my Beta-Readers Nanya and Innortal. With their feedback and positive reinforcement I keep on trucking. 

I'm happy I finally got the Arctic vixen triplets into the story outright. I loved how Nicholaswilde portrayed them in his tumblr comic and these darlings deserve more page time!

Also, as a small shout-out to J Shute Norway and Chronocrosser? There's your Bellwether and Judy snap-shot. I hope to show just why the sheep ended up becoming the villain in the movie because I really don't think it was one thing that caused her to snap. Oh no, it was a series of little things piling up until she couldn't take it anymore.

And that includes diving face first into a cowpie. 

I hope you all enjoy! I'll do my best to make certain the next chapter comes out in two weeks.

And remember: Try Everything!


	13. Give Pizza Chance

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 13: Give Pizza Chance

In the passenger area of a limo, four polar bears waited in a tense, alert state as the driver took them to their destination. It was definitely one of their boss's more expensive limousines... the kind that could ruin the bank account of any normal mammal who wanted to enjoy the amenities a party limo could afford them! It had a stocked bar along the left side of the vehicle and expensive _**leather**_ couch seating all along the right wall. The tinted blue lights were on in the back and the air conditioning high, leaving a chilling fog to roam around the ankles of the four ursine males in somewhat-matching black track suits. They were all the same style and cut but the crown logo of the Tundratown Limo-Service over the left pectoral as well as the pipe lining of the garments were color-coded to their owners' eyes.

The white-pelted ursine who's uniform was accented with blue looked over his cell phone; the screen displaying a latest picture that an informant had sent him just minutes. It was an image of their target: a young, blue-eyed polar bear cub, the boy dressed in a white shirt with long blue sleeves and a gray pair of shorts. He was young, his fur a clean and bright–as if the filth of the world hadn't gotten to him yet–and claws still a pearly white from not having been used. This was an innocent who had not realized the kind of world he truly lived in.

He would be easy pickings.

"No mistaking it," he spoke up, getting the attention of his fellow Arctic ursine. "It's Mr. Cold's kid. We bring him to the boss and Tundratown is as good as the boss's," he said as he held up the cellular device, making sure the trio with him could view it. Getting a nod from their heads, the large predator grunted as he pocketed his cell-phone. "Remember the plan, gentlemen. In and out: we grab the kid and go. His only chaperones are a few vixens and the boss doesn't want us actually firing our weapons unless we have to. That would look bad on his part if we did."

The others nodded their heads in understanding. The Arctic shrew was _trying_ to present himself as a legitimate business-mammal. Having thugs who pulled out and fired guns inside of buildings while dressed in the attire of who employed them was simply bad for business. While pulling out a firearm was the quickest solution they would refrain for Mr. Big's sake... as well as their own. If they did without a good reason, they could expect to be **iced** for it.

The vehicle coming to a stop and remain there, the leader of the group turned his head towards the partition window between the passenger and driver's section of the limo. "Driver!" He shouted. "Have we arrived?"

"Sí, Señor Raymond!" The voice of the driver up-front chirruped, a panther from the Rainforest District. "We're just outside Largo's Pizza. Do you wish me to return at a certain time or..." he trailed off as the quartet or large Arctic animals stood up to disembark.

"Just wait here and keep the motor running. We will return shortly," the polar bear with blue eyes stated. Without waiting for an answer, he quickly turned about and made his way to the open door of the limousine, stepping down and into the snowy streets. Joining the other three who had exited while he took a moment to instruct the driver, the head of the troupe made his way to the wooden doors of the pizzeria; placing a massive paw on it before swinging the barrier inward. He was gazing around at the mostly empty establishment, taking note of a couple of white-pelted wolves who were sharing a pizza at one of the many tablecloth-covered wooden tables.

It was his fellow soldier Kevin who caught sight of their intended target. "You!" The yellow-eyed polar bear shouted as he raised his right hand and motioned towards the back towards one of the booths, a group of much smaller mammals which included the young polar bear. "Stay where you are!" He shouted as he started to rush into the seating area; scaring off the lupine men who had been trying to finish off their pizza.

Realizing that his usual partner was getting things started already, Raymond looked over to Michael and Leo. Giving them a slight nod of his head, he slide his impressive right paw into his pocket, taking hold of his handgun. Seeing the other two do so as well, the carnivore of cold origin made his way into the patron seating of the pizza parlor to back up his friend adorned in yellow highlights.

Just because they were told not to openly use their guns didn't mean they couldn't use make hints towards them for intimidation.

"Excuse me, but what is going on?" A female voice asked as the four got close to the table. Turning, the four blinked as Carmelita stood there with a serious look on her face. She was hoping that these four weren't going to start anything. While she was off-duty, she wouldn't be any sort of cop if she just sat back and did nothing to try and diffuse the situation ahead of time.

Blinking his flaxen eyes, the polar mammal who had initially started the charge paused in his tracks as the orange-pelted carnivore that threw herself between his crew and the table. "Oh look! It's a fox..." he murmured as he openly gaped at the vulpine woman's curves.

Coming up beside his fellow soldier of Mr. Big, another of the polar bears stopped in his charge to gaze down at her. "Yep," the Arctic ursine adorned in a tracksuit with green and a silver chain with a cross around his neck said as he nodded his head in agreement. It was pretty obvious to anyone that the woman in front of them was a fox.

Looking over to his fellow polar bear, the yellow-eyed carnivore raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Leo, she's hot," Kevin replied before his gaze moved back to the woman who stood firm before them. He had to lick his massive tongue over his muzzle as he suddenly found his lips to be incredibly dry as he looked her over.

Again, the other Mafia soldier nodded his head. "Well, she is warm-blooded," the polar predator in the track outfit with viridian tints replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"No, I mean that she's got boobs!" The head polar bear twitched, forgetting the point of them being there in the first place as he was obviously, 'distracted by the sexy'. Something his fellows had accused him of falling into way too easily on a number of occasions.

Needless to say, Carmelita twitched at the comment about her curves. Yes, she had breasts but they weren't _that_ big a deal! She wanted to hit the guy for that one but at the same time the Interpol Inspector was hopeful she could keep the pair of dolts distracted long enough for the others to flee.

Noticing the vixen's gaze darting back to the table, the Raymond snorted. Reading the signs that she was ready to bolt as soon as fight or flight syndrome set in, he raised his left paw and snapped his fingers before the polar bear in uniform with orange highlights. The amber-eyed ursine nodding its head before making his way around the tables and the arguing pair of idiots to cut their targets off from an easy escape.

As their fellow soldier actually did some work, the pair of ursine men closest to the booth continued to argue, with Leo firmly replying, "Yes. Women typically have those."

Kevin rolled his eyes in complete disbelief as the large polar predator couldn't seem to get the point through his thick skull. What was up with his co-worker on this!? "But they're huge!" He protested in frustration, causing Raymond to raise his free paw to smack himself in the face while Carmelita continued to visibly twitch in rapidly rising annoyance.

The stoic ursine didn't seem to catch onto the frantic reflection of his fellow made mammal's words. "Not too uncommon. Some species have bigger ones than that." Although the polar bear in the ebony tracksuit with green pipelining and crown logo embossed on his uniform had to admit to himself that foxes typically didn't get **THAT** big. It was something of a rarity to occur naturally.

"...You two done yet?" Carmelita snapped, the annoyance she felt clearly prevalent in the expression her face and the tone of her voice. She was all good for stalling for time but even this was testing her limits. While the canid cop normally considered herself more level headed than this, the fact she had to put up with so many comments along the lines of this earlier in the day had left her tolerance for it at an all-time low. The Latina vulpine could feel herself wanting to blow her top like she used to when she first started working at Interpol.

Looking down at her, Kevin motioned towards her with his free hand as he pointedly added, "Plus she has hips!" He took a deep breath and reiterated his sentiment with the comment of, "Hips for days! The kind of hips that Gazelle claims don't lie about!"

Rolling his eyes as he let off an exasperated sight, Raymond made a sign of the cross, hoping word of this never got back to their mother. Hispanic vixen slapped herself on the face

Raising an eyebrow, Leo took a step back as the female red fox started to become visibly angry. He might have been a larger predator but he knew from experience when cornered, the smaller carnivores could be absolutely _vicious_. "Yes, mammalian girls tend to have hips..." he trailed off. It was so obvious, so why was his partner saying such obvious things? Anyone who looked at this fox could see all those things!

Taking a deep breath in a final effort to calm herself, the female red fox glared up at the two with a steely brown gaze. "...Done yet?" Carmelita growled out.

"I'd like to breed with her!" Kevin blurted out suddenly without preamble or second thought. Such typically wasn't the kind of thing to just announce in public but the mafia underling was getting frustrated with his co-worker's blasé attitude. Yes, his cousin was something of the straight-mammal but even he should have been able to appreciate a fine example of sultry vixen!

Everyone gathered in the restaurant turned to stare at the polar in utter shock–even Matteo was leaning out the door to the kitchen to make sure he heard that right. It was just so surreal that some had to wonder if this was a prank or not. So shocking was the statement that Carmelita's anger was momentarily subdued, leaving her to stare at the taller predator in bewilderment and disbelief.

Bringing a hand up to his face, the polar bear in the uniform with forest green accents scratched his chin as he mulled over his fellow mafia soldier's statement. "And now I wonder what kind of cubs would come out of that: white foxes or red polar bears?" Leo idly murmured aloud, trying to come to a conclusion out of some morbid curiosity.

The Hispanic vixen twitched. "...I should be mad. Utterly and truly pissed... but that is a good question," Carmelita muttered quietly as she tried to figure it out for herself. If she focused on that instead of the pure unadulterated rage she felt boiling in the very core of her soul, then it was likely she _**wouldn't**_ set off a firefight by stabbing him in the knee with the butter knife she was firmly squeezing in the grasp of her left hand.

Realizing he had the woman curious, the polar bear with golden eyes looked down to meet the woman's deep hazel stare. "So, will you?" The ursine in yellow-accented ebony track uniform asked, his eyes lighting up with hope. It had been awhile since he had gotten with a woman who had a pelt that _wasn't_ the usual snow white that matched with his surroundings. And if he and the others were going to capture this kid, he could hopefully bring her along to keep the cub quiet before he spent an evening with her.

Her right eye twitching, the Hispanic red fox gripped the utensils she had picked up firmly in her grasp tight enough that she could feel the wood handle begin to crack. What was with this guy!? He was no better than any of the animals she had brought in while working vice _! I swear to God, it's like none of these animals have ever seen a female fox!_ She thought with rage.

As the off-duty police officer fumed silently, the polar bear goon with a uniformed toned with orange finally made his way around to block to closest exit. The taller of the two vulpine men who had remained at the table realized the situation was soon going to degrade into a bloodbath from how they kept pushing Carm's buttons and he better do something and fast! Sure, he may not have doubted the Latina vixen's ability to inflict pain on another animal but the canid con-mammal was certain that one should never bring a knight to a gun fight... particularly a butter knife.

His keen mind working into overdrive, the red fox knew what he to do. Stealing a glance over the gathering of Mr. Big's thugs before him to make certain their attention wasn't on the booth outright, the pawpsicle hustler leaned over his partner's head. Ignoring the grumbling of the desert fox, Nick whispered, " _Cherry! Cherry!_ " Seeing the Arctic vixen turn her attention to him he quietly queried, " _Do you have a phone?_ " When she nodded her head, he told her, " _Get under the table with Morris for cover and call for help. I'll try and distract them._ "

Blinking her bright blue eyes in surprise at what the usually cowardly, self-serving narcissist was suggesting, she whispered back, " _How? By putting on a grass skirt and dancing the Hula?_ "

The male fox shook his head sadly. " _That's not going to work. There's no bacon_ ," he quietly replied as he started to slide out of the booth. Coming up to stand beside the vixen on her left, the male fox reached his right hand up and placed it on her shoulder. "Now come on, fellas!" He chirruped in a suave and smooth manner. "You should know that it would be very difficult to manage. I mean, Carm here is a big girl for her species but I doubt she would be large enough where it counts for one of you guys!" He chimed in a complimentary manner. "You need to get with another bear or try a hippo... heck I'd suggest an elephant if I didn't think she would end up giving one of you guys a broken hip!"

His eyes going wide, the polar bear dressed in a uniform adorned with a blue crown tag over his chest curled the left corner of his lip back in a snarl. Making his way past Kevin and Leo, the tall predator mammal broke the pair up and stood before the two foxes, his icy blue eyes glaring down at the smaller mammal. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde!" He called out the male red fox's full name. "I thought I told you never to show your face around Tundratown again!?"

Cringing slightly as he realized the Arctic mammal did remember him, the crimson-pelted canid brought his paws up in a warding manner, motioning for the larger carnivore to reign back his temper. "Easy, easy now Raymond... I can't imagine why you'd be so mad. I mean, Finnick and I gave you all those pawpsicles for free, didn't we?" Left unsaid was, 'in return for losing traction in the snow and slamming the back end of the van into your Mercedes'.

"THOSE PAWPSICLES GAVE ME THE RUNS!" He shouted as his hand gripped the holster of his firearm tightly within the pocket of his jacket. While a bit hypocritical of him to be the one getting trigger happy after warning the others not to be, this one fox was someone who he'd wanted to have a run-in with again for quite some time.

Needless to say, that statement made the male vulpine blink his eyes a couple of times in surprise. He frowned slightly as he considered that. "Really?" Her queried as the gears in his head began spinning. "I never heard of..." his green eyes practically brightened as the proverbial light-bulb went off in his head. "Oh! Are you, by any chance, allergic to red dye number forty?" He queried in a genuinely curious manner.

That admission on Wilde's part made the Latina vixen blink her eyes in genuine surprise. "Red dye number forty?" She parroted in confusion. "I thought you said that your pawpsicles were all-natural?"

His hand still gripping the handle of his firearm, the polar bear furrowed his eyebrows into a hateful glare as he stared down at the much smaller fox. "What does that have to do with **anything**!?" Raymond roared out at the con-mammal.

Ignoring the hostility directed towards him, the vulpine male decided to answer both a once. "Well, it's a common salt, calcium, and potassium-based food coloring that red-colored sweets have to make them look more appealing. Unfortunately, some mammals are allergic to it. Too much can screw with the digestive system and give you the runs among other things." And Gouda knew those Jumbo Pops were packed with enough Allura Red AC to put down a bull elephant... ironic, considering a family of elephants were the ones making them.

Needless to say, the large polar bear raised an inquisitive eyebrow, widening the patch gray fur that surrounded his left eye.

"Well it's either that or it could be the fact you ate forty of them in one sitting, but hey! Who am I to judge?" The crimson-pelted canid said as he shrugged his shoulders. "Now listen: Carmelita here is paying for pizza tonight! So how about we all just sit down and enjoy a slice of Italian bliss?" He grinned widely, motioning to the vixen. "I did mention she was paying, right?"

Now raising one of her own navy blue eyebrows, the Latina vulpine was turned her gaze towards her friend with an annoyed stare. "Wilde..." she spoke as softly as she could to him through gritted teeth. "What are you doing?" For one thing, it sounded like he was trying to empty her wallet with how he kept volunteering her to pay for people's dinners. Considering how two of the ursine men kept going on about her sexually attractive she was–let alone how all four were packing heat _despite_ being Arctic mammals–she did **NOT** want to share a table with these obvious criminals.

Giving her a tilted smile and trying to play off the obvious growing rage she was feeling as nervousness, the male red fox calmly chirruped, "It shouldn't be too troublesome, Carm. I mean, it's not like any of us want to have any problems, right?" He lifted his head to gaze up towards the large polar bear, his lips widened across his muzzle to show off all his pearly white teeth. "We're all friends here... right? Right?" Even if rejected, he could hopefully buy enough time for the vixens to send for help. He didn't think Mr. Big's boys would be ballsy enough to start a turf war in the middle of the best pizza parlor in Zootopia!

After a few moments, the head of gathered leg-breaks snorted. As much as they needed to get the kid and leave, he couldn't help but want to take a moment and tie off this loose end once it had presented itself. "Still, you know you aren't allowed to be here, Wilde..." he said in a threatening manner. "So why are you—"

"Did I mention that my best buddy in the whole world got shot in the butt this afternoon and needed a meal to forget that he got shot in said butt?" Nick interrupted and shook his head. "Oh my poor, _poor_ Finnick," the male vulpine tsked sadly as he continued to stall for time. "He's rather lucky it was just his caboose that took that ricocheted bullet. A few inches higher and he could have a broken pelvis... and **not** from the fun way," he said meaningfully. It might make Carmelita mad but he was hoping to bait the rather horny Kevin. Every second counted!

The polar bear took it hook, line, and sinker. "Even if it's the fun way, it still hurts." Everyone turned to look at him to which, the ursine with golden highlights in his uniform shrugged helplessly. "...One of my brothers went through that," he lied. Truth be told, it was Kevin himself that had gotten with a girl that was a bit... well... **TOO** big for him when he was younger and cracked his pelvic bone. He was lucky he was able to walk normally after that.

The Latina vixen's jaw dropped as she stared at the cold-based carnivore. Really? Did this guy come from a whole family of perverts? _Then again, considering they're part of Mr. Big's crew, I wouldn't put it past them_ , she thought with annoyance. The female fox remembered how Don Octavio's men were when she had to deal with them in Venice: a bunch of sharp-dressed masked cane corso mutts that thought themselves God's gift to the fairer sex. _I only hope they're not as trigger happy as the Vincenetti Gang was_. 

The vulpine hustler raised an eyebrow in a curious fashion. Really? His brother got a pelvic fracture? "Was it the elephant prostitute I suggested?" Nick chirruped in response, hoping to draw this out for as long as he could. "Or was it one of the regular polar bear ladies I saw hanging off of him?" He paused for a moment as a memory tickled at the back of his mind. "I seem to recall seeing him hang out with one in particular a lot the last time I saw him. Liked to dress in this sequined blue... dress..." he trailed off as mindless muscle of Mr. Big began to shake. "Er... you okay, Kevin?"

His eyes wide enough to show every red vein popping across the white sclera of his optic organs, the polar bear in a gold-accented tracksuit roared, "DID YOU JUST CALL MY SISTER-IN-LAW A **PROSTITUTE**!?" Sure, he might have made a few comments about the vixen but that's what she was! A sultry fox! To call a loving and caring ursine beauty a whore was too much to bear for the ursine. "VAFFANCULO, WILDE!"

Every muscle in her body tensing up with a sudden burst of adrenaline as the irate polar bear pulled free a gun from his jacket, Carmelita watched with wide eyes as her mind immediately registered the weapon as a Franchi RF 83. An inexpensive service revolver that was known as the Italian .38 Special. Very common over in its country of origin albeit this one was a snubnose variation sized for a polar bear and the barrel was aimed right at the head of her fellow red fox!

Officer Fox didn't even have a chance to think as she tackled him on impulse, the vulpine woman quick enough to push the troublesome tod out of the way as the Arctic predator pulled the trigger twice, allowing for the bullets to pass through the air where Nick's noggin' was a split second prior to the hammer cocking and coming down.

With the first shot fired, all hell broke loose.

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The Snow Palace Hotel, a grand business settled in the heart of Tundratown District, was a resort with a highly-touted five star rated experienced; the building itself a paw-carved structure a miracle of modern animal engineering and finesse that would have been impossible to reproduce through artificial means that made for an exquisite if not intimidating display of wealth and power for visitors. However, besides the icy hotel's quality designs and excellent attention to finer detail that somehow blended aspects of the top of Mount Everest, the Aztec Temples, and the Pyramids of Giza perfectly, the prosperous Arctic-minded resort displayed _exemplary_ luxury across all its areas of operation. Mammalian guests of frozen origins were guaranteed access to and the enjoyment of an extensive range of facilities and comprehensive if not highly personalized services. There were the twenty-four hour Reception and Concierge services headed by a multilingual staff, door-mammal service with valet parking, luggage service, a spacious reception hall with several seats and beverage service, a fully-stocked and diverse breakfast buffet, a personalized greeting for each guest with freshly carved ice sculpture and a present in the room, a telephone and television in every room, rich leather-soft Corinthian Kevlar furniture, minibar and food and beverage offers via room service twenty-four hours a day, personal care products in every bathroom, internet connectivity, a room safe, an on-call ironing service, shoe polish service, turn-down service in the evening, and a chocolate mint on the pillow every night just to name but a few of the many aspects that earned the premiere hotel of Tundratown its much-lauded praise and success.

Its founder and owner, Mr. Kozlov Kholodno, would settle for nothing less when it came to making a new life for himself and his family in Zootopia.

However, the Ice Palace was also known for the highly revered Aysberg Sady Spa. It was an upscale luxury enterprise where mineral-rich waters were used in a facility that was designed to allow its visitors to indulge in an excess of beautification, pampering, and health. A place where an animal could revel in the wondrous relaxation of fine soaking, aromatherapy, various body wraps, diverse styles of massage, splendorous grooming, and magnificent manicures and pedicures for fine claw care. Upon entering such facilities, one expected certain things: a puff of steam whenever the entrance or a door within was opened, oppressive humidity, and the smell of sweaty fur to hang in the air.

But this was Tundratown. In the frozen reaches of Zootopia, a simple 'hot spring' was a body of liquid that had **non-frozen** water. The temperature in the room could be slightly above freezing or way below it, depending on what they put in the water to keep the tubs clean from whatever they washed off. As long as they had genuine water for use, the patrons of the Snow Palace could enjoy the grandeur of a fine, easing soak to loosen knotted muscles and temper anxiety.

But even then, one particular room of the Aysberg Sady–Russian for Iceberg Gardens–was special.

The main spring–which was reserved for the special clientele and those who funded the resort–was built with sheer excess and opulent luxury in mind.

The room was taller than a normal fake spring would be; ceilings four stories above the floor. In the back, beyond a small alcove, were tall sculptures. But whether they were polished glass or ice was hard to say, without getting up close to them. The carved figures carried a Russian theme, with many polar bears dressed in fashioned garb and style of figure that would have been more akin to a presentation of Pyotursine Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker Suite than present day sensibilities. Even though the numerous statues were larger than life, the display was something of a classy acknowledgement to the founder's motherland, to be certain

As for anything else in the private spring, whatever wasn't the smoothed stone walkway was made to look like the town's namesake: covered in snow and scrub plants. Such was the only vegetation hearty enough to survive the sheer cold of its environment and the salt content of the water that did exist for its use and the small dash of green was seen as a very bold statement in an otherwise wintery atmosphere. Only the best for those who had the Snow Palace's financial interest and success at heart.

Currently, the main spring was in use by the resort's owner and a pair of VIP's. The owner of the Ice Palace, Kozlov was settled in the back of the spring, opposite to the icy steps that lead into the slightly above freezing water. The polar bear was pressed up against the exposed stone base beneath the epic ice carving/grand glass sculpture, his arms spread out at either side of him and on the ledge of the chilled water, allowing the tundra mammal to spread out. Although the orange swimsuit he wore was the only clothe item, the ursine was decked out in quite a bit of bling: a pair of gold watches on either wrist–set to London, Moscow, Tokyo, and Zootopia time–thick banded diamond-encrusted gold rings on each of his fingers, enough gold chains hanging from his neck that he would leave Mr. T blushing, and a custom prescription pair of Costa Del Mare polarization and UV protection goggle sunglasses. The predator had a Cuban cigar held between his index and middle fingers that he would take an occasional puff from.

To either side of the hotel owner were his fellow Russian polar bears. To Kozlov's left and leaning back against the edge of pooled cold spring water was the retired Lieutenant First Class Maykl Silovoye. A former member of the now-defunct Spetsnaz Soviet Special Forces, the heavily muscled and visibly scarred polar bear was in similar attire to his host: the same orange swim-trunks that bore the logo of the Ice Palace and numerous pieces of jewelry, albeit to a much lesser extent. A multifunctional titanium military watch on his left wrist, a diamond stud in his left earlobe, a gold wedding band on his left ring finger, and a gold chain that had a trio of pendants: a gold cross, a silver cornicello, and his old steel military dog-tags. A trio of empty vodka bottles had piled up behind the animal while he had a fourth in his right hand; the mammal preferring to drink directly from it than a tiny glass.

Off to the resort owner's right was the other old school ursine individual, the highly-esteemed Captain Uilyam Zhelezo. The vacationing elder–but still solidly muscled–arctic ursine was an active member of the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation. He might not have seemed as imposing as the other two polar bears at first glance thanks to a belly that was far larger than his fellow Arctic animals', yet the faded tattoo on his right bicep spoke volumes. The sword and shield emblem that marked the polar bear was a memento of his days as a secret police-mammal of the USSR and a reminder of a time when his current office was known as the Committee for State Security. Or as the Capitalists Dogs–literal canine bureaucrats–referred to them: the KGB. He was choosing to remain silent as the other two talked business, a tactic made easier as he stuffed his face. A pile of fish-bones was steadily rising up behind him as a seal attendant kept coming over with plates of fresh fish for the hungry Russian servicemammal.

Fortunately, the ursine Uilyam arrived with was more than eager to fill in the silence. "I don't get it, Kholodno," the former Special Forces polar bear began as he motioned over to his fellow somewhat overweight ursine. "You have all this wealth and prestige in Zootopia. You followed and succeeded at the so-called, 'American Dream'. Why do you need us to send you some of our best animals?" He chuckled as he swirled the vodka he had inside of the half-empty bottle he held. "Granted, you are doing a fantastic job of kissing tail and I am likely to say yes but you have me curious as to your need for more muscle. You were the Derzhatel Obschaka for one of the largest Russkaya Mafiya in all the country. You have more than enough Bratok to cover your bases in Tundratown so why do you want to hire on my former comrades? I mean, we're older now. We're not likely to keep up with you cubs." He took another swig of his bottle before using the back of his left paw to wipe his muzzle. "We would rather sit on our asses while drinking and sharing old stories of glory than going back to our former ways." 

His eyes narrowing behind the thick orange lenses of his special sunglasses, the businessman gazed over to the once proud soldier of mother Russia. "Because my men need training, comrade," the ursine adorned in a large amount of material wealth replied. "You might not be up to being the mammal in the field but you and your men have the knowledge and knowhow to train us up. To make us even tougher than we already are."

Crunching down on a mackerel, the Captain chewed thoroughly before pulling on the tail and slipping the fish's skeleton out of his muzzle. As the head of the aquatic creature came free from his lips with an audible pop, the KGB-turned-FSB threw the waste over his shoulder onto the steadily growing pile of bones as he interjected, "It sounds to me like you're getting ready to go to war, comrade Kholodno." The older bear's attention was firmly on the Bratva Boss as he reached over to the plate the marine mammal was balancing on his nose, the white-furred ursine with a fully gray muzzle added, "You were the one who said he was retiring from the, 'business' after your last Pakhan was killed. It was why the government let you and your Brotherhood leave the country in the first place."

Glaring down at the fish his elder was shaking at him, Kovloz raised his head to meet the older bear's steely gaze with his own. "I assure you Captain Zhelezo, that... _person_ was **no** Pakhan to my family's syndicate. He killed my father, ignored the hierarchy and treated all of us as slaves instead of brothers. His death was the best thing that could have happened to the Kholodno Bratva and frankly, after he dragged our name through the mud my men and I were glad to retire from the family business to start something a bit more legitimate."

"Hard to call it legitimate when it was founded on stolen wealth," Uilyam pointed out but said no further as he brought the fish up to his lips and chomped down firmly. Holding the stare with the former mob boss as he chewed what had to have been his fortieth mackerel this hour, the Russian government official grasped the tail tightly only to snap it off. Making a show of his aggression by chomping down on the skeleton and swallowing it whole, the Federal Security Service agent told the supposedly retired mafia head, "Oh we know all about the frozen assets you've stored but frankly, since a number of that was taken was from the motherland's enemies we couldn't have cared less. The fact you gave us a considerable chunk of change on your way out made the government decided you and your people weren't our problem anymore, comrade Kholodno but I should warn you. If you insist on getting us involved you'll be a very sorry mammal."

"The captain speaks for himself of course," Maykl interjected as he held up his now empty glass bottle before turning about and settling it behind him with the others. His torso turning back about to face his fellow polar bears, the retired soldier continued, "My brothers-in-arms and I are already of a different mindset." He smiled gratefully at the female seal whom slid into the water with another bottle of vodka on her nose. Taking it and giving her a nod of his head in gratitude, the white-pelted ursine began to pull on the cork as he explained, "We are itching for action, even if it is trying to train some Braok into their title's namesake. We just want to know why." Pulling the cork free, he then raised his free paw in a quieting gesture. "And yes, I heard that you want us to make your men stronger but _why_?"

Taking his arms off of the ledge, Kozlov placed the lit cigar he'd been smoking into the silver ash-tray on the ledge behind him. The large polar predator then leaned forward into the cold spring. Bringing his paws together atop his abdomen, the male ursine explained, "Tundratown is suffering from an infestation. Some **vermin** have begun to settle in with the Italian minority of the District and have begun to make waves. They wish to restart their criminal empire and think me to be some grand mob boss standing in the way." He snorted at how asinine such a thought was. Sure, he may have run a heavy-handed loan office on the side but he was no criminal... in the States. "I'm tired... so very tired. My men want to live peace in return for the decade they spent in service to such a bastardly Pakhan while I wish to raise my son in a safe environment. This idiot, Don Grandé believes he needs bloodshed to be the, 'big boss' even when told we don't care if he wants to be some grand boss. We have enough of our own money and prestige that we couldn't care less about the infamy of being a mafia gang again!"

Nursing his bottle for a moment, Mr. Silovoye pulled the neck free from his lips for a moment to question, "Don Grandé? You mean to tell me the so-called, Mr. Big of Little Rodentia is the animal giving you trouble?" At the local's nod, the ex-Spetsnaz irritably snapped, "He is but a mere shrew! Just step on him and be done with it!" 

"Easier said than done," the owner of the Snow Palace replied. "You see, that little shrew bastard succeeded in integrating himself within the Little Italy section of the district thanks to having purchased the Tundratown Limo-Service..." he snorted. "He's not only brought in mammals from outside of our frozen home that don't share our values but he has managed to gain a lot of local muscle as well. Mammals who would rather follow a quick buck then value the solidarity they had with their ursine brethren."

"Ah-HA! There we go," Maykl said with a chuckle. "You can't step on him because the vermin got some **real** muscle to protect him! No surprise, really. Mercenary work has always been plentiful in this world, no matter what people say." Taking a moment to drink from his vodka, the former Special Forces operative then tilted the bottle away from his lips and queried, "So you want some help training your men to take on some of your fellow polar bears? You provide us drinks and a comfortable place to sleep and that should be doable." He grinned deviously as he held up his glass container a bit higher. "Skoal!" He cheered before tilting his head back and drinking heartily as the female pinniped came back with yet another bottle for him.

Frowning as the retired Lieutenant First Class drank like a proverbial fish, the aged Russian agent turned his attention back to the mobster who had supposedly withdrawn from the life or organized crime. After a few moments of staring at the much taller polar bear, Uilyam replied in a guarded fashion, "Well the Spetsnaz are an officially retired branch of the government so they are free to make choices of their own accord..." he trailed off as he reached over to the offered tray of fish the seal, picking up a pair of the meaty refreshments in one massive paw. He then begrudgingly offered, "I will see what I can do to speed up things the clerical end of their travel and work visas to get them preferential processing if you wish."

Watching as the older polar bear then stuffed both fish in his impressive maw before crunching down in a rather ravenous if not forceful fashion, Kozlov nodded his head in return. "Spasibo," he thanked in their native tongue. "That would be appreciated, Captain Zhelezo. I can't tell you how much of a help that... will... be..." he trailed off as he saw a dark-furred female sable open the door to the private room. Recognizing her as one of his many employees, he polar bear breathed deeply. "Dalida..." he said the girl's name slowly in a careful fashion; it wouldn't do for his reputation to get mad at the help in front of important guests. "What have I told you? I did not want to be interrupted unless it was an—"

"Pardon Mr. Cold, but this **is** an emergency!" She said in a firm tone that brooked no room for argument as she made her way down to the stone path and to the cold spring. Walking around the ledge as quickly as she could without slipping into the waters, the mustelidae offered the cell phone to her boss. "Take it!"

Surprised at how adamant the Russian mustelidae was being with hime, the polar bear brought the small communications device to the side of his head. "Hello. Kozlov speaking..." he greeted in a neutral tone, unsure as to what was so important.

The ursine male got his answer when the familiar voice of Cherry, one of the Aysberg Sady Spa's best comfort vixens came over the line. " _Boss!_ " The girl cried out frantically; the panic evident in her tone. " _We're at Largo's Pizza in Little Italy! We're pinned down by Mr. Big's men! They're after Morris! We're holding them off but we won't last for much longer! Please send help!_ " His sat up straight as the call was cut short by a shriek and the sound of gunfire.

His eyes went wide behind the lenses of his glasses, the large polar bear sat in stunned silence for a moment. As his mind processed what he heard over the phone, his blood soon began to boil over–a dangerous thing for an Arctic animal–as he realized that the damned Arctic shrew had made a move sooner than expected. "Blyad!" The once cool business-mammal cursed out angrily. "Blyad, blyad, blyad, blyad, **BLYAD**!" He roared out at the top of his lungs as he slammed his clenched fist onto the ledge of the pool again and again in a tantrum, cracking the stone lining while completely obliterating the cell phone in his massive paw.

Needless to say, both visiting Russians were surprised by their fellow ursine's outburst. "Comrade Kholodno," Maykl spoke up as he carefully put the half-empty liquor bottle up on the ledge of the otherwise chilly hot spring with the numerous empty ones. "Is something the matter?" The former Soviet Special Forces soldier queried as he looked at the agitated state of his host. "If something happened, I wouldn't mind offering a paw," he said in all seriousness.

Although he said nothing, even the older FSB agent nodded his head in agreement with the other polar bear's sentiment. They may have all come from different walks of life in mother Russia but they were all other the motherland by blood and birth. If some mammal messed with one, they messed with all.

"Comrade Silovoye? Captain Zhelezo? I am sorry but something important has come up. Please. Feel free to enjoy the facilities..." he turned to the gray-furred woman that was an offshoot of the weasel species as he told them, "If you need anything else, be it more food or drink, just ask Dalida here." He said grimaced. "And apologies for your phone, my dear. Please attend to my guests while I handle this issue."

Nodding her head, the female sable nodded her head as she replied, "Understood, Mr. Cold." This wasn't the first phone she'd broken and she'd switched over to buying the cheap older models out of habits because of these outbursts. _At least I got a few months out of this one_ , she thought as she picked up one of the towels that had been set aside for the gathered bears and offered it to the much, **much** larger mammal as she stepped out of the hot spring.

He didn't answer in words. He merely accepted the immense white sheet of terrycloth the small carnivore was offering him. Taking a moment to rub it roughly across his lower torso to soak up as much of the water as he could, the large arctic mammal then wrapped it around his waist and took off like a bat out of hell through the doors of the private spring and into the main foyer of the Iceberg Gardens Spa. His eyes were drawn to the pair of polar bear guards that were stationed on duty in case one of the customers got fresh with the staff and shouted to them, "MEN! OVER HERE NOW!"

Straightening up at hearing their boss call for them, the pair of suited individuals left their posts as they rushed over to the predator that stood a solid head taller than them. Coming to a stop, the pair brought their right pars to the side of their scalps and just above the eyebrows as they saluted him in a militaristic fashion. "Privetstvuyu, Autoritet Kholodno!" The pair hailed their boss.

Not having time for the usual respect for the chain of command let alone pleasantries, the white-pelted ursine got right down to it. "Pavel," he said the name of the bear on the right, who stiffened up. "Isaak," he then acknowledged the name of the Arctic predator on the left. "Go see Vinsent immediately and put together a support group for him. I need you to get to Largo's Pizza!" And the confusion on their faces, he snapped, " **MY SON IS IN DANGER!** "

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The restaurant blurred around Carmeltia as she rode the surging wave of adrenaline while she weaved about the dining area of Largo's Pizza; her right hand firmly grasping her fellow red fox by the wrist as they ducked and dodged about tables to avoid getting killed. The constant booming explosions of gun barrels firing off echoed in her ears while she felt every bead of sweat either roll down her forehead or fly off her hair as she did her best to evade getting either Nick or herself shot. The only things keeping them from being turned into pelts was her physical limits and her desire to survive.

Oh, she had been in fire fights before... too many to count if she were honest with herself. But this was the first time she was taken off guard; caught unarmed. Without a way to properly defend herself from a distance, the Hispanic vulpine's heart pounded inside her ears, the beat matching the wild pace of her feet slamming against the floor as she raced over the restaurant for safety. She, as a fox, may have been the product of four billion years of evolutionary success but she was still an animal deep down, and this was the fight or flight instinct at its purest form.

Wilde wasn't doing too well either. The fact he was keeping up with her was testament to his desire to _not_ die! The male red fox would be the first to admit he was nowhere near the lovely Officer Fox's physical capability but he was certainly able to match the taller vulpine in the pace she set even as his muscles ached as he pushed them harder than ever before. Sweat poured down his forehead, causing his short hair to cling to his scalp as his throat ached for much needed air. Not even the delicious rush of the cold wind that blew in from outside through the broken glass of the shot-up windows could do anything to cool him down.

The polar bear in blue-accented clothes snarled in aggravation as the he continued to fire off his handgun; his trigger finger causing his weapon to let off empty clicks as he ran out of rounds. Growling, he did his best to open the chamber and begin reloading again quickly, all the while his eyes darted about for their target who had gone missing in the chaos. It wasn't supposed to be like this! This should have been a simple in and out! Now Kevin went off the handle and they needed to get that kid or the boss was going to have a shit hemorrhage over them causing such a disturbance without result. "MICHAEL!" He shouted to his fellow thug; the one who's ebony uniform was colored with orange crown logo and pipelining. "FIND THE KID!"

"ON IT!" The one who had been standing guard by the emergency exist in the back yelled as he fired a few shots to get people to stay down while he began looking around. "Come on out, kid! We'll leave if you just come quietly, no one needs to get hurt."

"YER GONNA DIE, WILDE!" Kevin shouted as the he took some more pot-shots at the fleeing vulpine as the pair of no good pelts broke for another cover.

"...Except him," the orange-eyed polar bear with a diamond stud in his left ear murmured as he made his way over to the booth the group had been at. He grasped at the edge of the table with a free hand and pulled it away roughly... gritting his teeth and snarling as he saw that it had been abandoned. He raised his head high, knowing they were still somewhere in the restaurant upon seeing the stillness of the doors to the main entrance and the emergency exit. "Come out, kid! Come out, come out wherever you are!"

Whimpering, the cub was doing his best to quietly crawl underneath tables, trying his hardest to stay out of view as Cherry and uncle Finnick flanked him. The pair of vulpines, both polar and desert, were aiding the target of this attack to make the right moves to stay out of range of the mean men who wanted to take him away. A paw quickly rubbing is left shoulder, the youngest of the vixen triplets whispered to the boy, "It's okay, sweety. Just keep your head down and stay quiet. It's a big place. We keep moving."

Unfortunately, while the others were able to use the furniture for cover, the two out in the open and being gunned down by Mafioso ursine were having a much harder time of things. As a bullet managed to fray the left side of his shirt's collar, Nicholas's eyes went wide; his heart skipping a heat from just how close that shot managed to hit. An inch more to the right and it would have blown out his jugular. "You got a plan!?" He managed to gasp out to his fellow vulpine as they both took a leap over the back of a booth bench while more lead went flying around them.

"Yeah! Try not to die!" She hissed back at him as she tugged firmly on his arm. She ignored his yelp as she managed to get him out of the line of fire that much quicker. "Only other plan I've got requires sharp pointy things to throw at them and I don't think any of us have those."

"What about the one in your hand?" He hissed back as he firmly tugged his wrist free form her grasp. He growled in pain as he rotated his arm in his socket, feeling like the limb had been pulled free from his shoulder.

A deep sigh escaped the Hispanic vixen's throat. "Butter knife," she explained. "I'm not good with aiming throwing weapons to begin with so if I'm to do any damage with this puny little thing, I need to get in close!" Her ear then twitched as her eyes caught sight of a possibly useful item–peculiar to see one in this place but she wasn't about to complain! Turning about to face the pawpsicle hustler once more, the off-duty ZPD officer firmly slapped the utensil she'd been carrying around into the palm of his paw. "Nick, when the shots quiet down, I need you to throw this at the closest mammal and hit the deck."

Taking a moment to gaze down at the small piece of silverware in his grip, the male red fox raised his head. Staring into her chocolate orbs with his own emerald eyes, he heatedly cried, "You want me to do _**what**_!?" Sure, it was true that he had tried some crazy plans in his day to make a buck, but he never did anything that had a less than a fifty-percent chance of success and this was about twelve-percent of a plan **at best**!

A frown pulling across her muzzle, the policewoman told him, "Please! Just do it, Wilde. I've got a plan but I need you to trust me!" Her gaze softening, she calmly asked him in a calmer manner, "Do you trust me?"

Considering such for a moment, Nick relented as he nodded his head. Yes, he knew could trust her. He just hoped that this would work out. The last thing he needed was a bullet in his butt or worse! So turning away from the woman, his triangular ears twitched wildly as he listened for shots; and effectively heard as the wood of the bench that currently gave them cover begin to give way as the bullets splintered it. When he heard only one gun going off, he dodged out to the left of the booth and out into the open. Coming to stand on his feet, the canid male shouted the one thing he could think of that would piss them off more than anything. So taking a deep breath, he chucked the knife at the direction of the closet bear as he screamed, "KEVIN! IF YOU THINK IT'S BAD YOUR SISTER-IN-LAW IS A WHORE, THEN YOU SHOULD ALL TELL YOUR MOTHERS TO QUIT THE HABIT!"

The knife... mere came clattering down on the ground a mere foot and a half in front of Wilde, the measly distance it attained a testament to his weak and girly arms that came from a lifetime of both minimal exercise and lack of eating right. Fortunately, the sheer venom in his words did a far better job at stunning the quartet of ursine goons than the sight of a flying butter knife ever could.

Needless to say though, when they finally reacted it was with explosive results. "WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT OUR MOTHERS!?" Kevin roared out as he finished reloading his own weapon. Staring at the direction of the small vulpine with golden eyes that were now ringed with practically bursting angry red arteries, he screamed, "THAT'S IT! I'M GOING TO HAVE SOME NICE FOX-SKIN SLIPPERS TO WEAR AROUND THE HOUSE AFTER THIS!"

Nick whimpered as he ducked back down, while the bears clasping the now loaded chambers of their firearms back into place one by one. "Carm, they're really pissed now," he murmured as he watched all guns begin to train on him. His ears flattening about against his skull as his emerald eyes widened, the pawpsicle hustler would have sworn his life was flashing before his eyes. His youth... the loss of his father... the specism he faced growing up... all the work... all the money... all the ex-girlfriends...

So many ex-girlfriends...

 _Wow, I was a_ _ **real**_ _man-whore_ , he thought bitterly as he stared down the four distinct barrels. From where they were placed around the restaurant there was no way to dodge. This could have been it.

Before the male vulpine went into a long goodnight, a familiar female voice suddenly let loose a battle-cry. Coming into view, Carmelita jumped onto the top of a seating bench's wooden backrest before she launched herself off from it. The vixen practically tucked her body into a fetal position as she went spinning rapidly over and under as her hands held something long, red, and cylindrical. Nicholas came to realize it was a fire extinguisher as soon as it slowed down enough for him to get a good look.

Coincidentally, it slowed down when the Latina policewoman brought it slamming down on the face of Kevin with an audible **crunch** ; the polar bear's pupils dilating to pin-pricks as his nose practically exploded into a gusher of blood. The hired muscle of Mr. Big dropped his weapon and immediately fell to the ground, holding his face in his massive paws and wailing hysterically at the unbearable pain he felt surging through his muzzle.

Honestly, the carnivorous canid in a Hawaiian shirt was most surprised to see a fire extinguisher of all things in Tundratown, but he supposed in a restaurant they _would_ need such for kitchen fires at the very least. But he wasn't going to complain about it, no sir! Especially when the vixen landed on her feet and then went spinning on the heels of her boots, trying to put as much inertia into the swing as she could...

 ***CLANG*!**

"AAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGH!" Leo cried out in agony as he fell over as well. The base of the dented metal container had stuck his knee dead center and he was feeling it! As the large polar predator fell to his side, he too ended up releasing his gun as he had to use both paws to grasp the throbbing muscle and tendons that connected his kneecap to the rest of his leg.

Seeing two of his men drop like flies, the leader of this surprisingly failing mission became enraged. "MICHAEL! WHERE'S THE KID!?" Raymond screamed as he turned about to hover over Carmelita with his superior height. "You! After I'm done with you, you're going to be begging me to kill you!" Especially with all the ideas he had for what one could do to a, 'sultry vixen'.

"I'M LOOKIN', I'M LOOKIN'!" The other polar bear growled as he turned from the male fox and just started grabbing tables and lifting them off the ground before throwing them towards the broken windows and into the streets in an effort to destroy whatever hiding places existed for the Kozlov's brat. This was getting out of hand and with all the gunshots the group had fired off, they needed to run before the cops–or worse–showed up.

Responding with a grunt of annoyance, the polar bear in the blue-highlighted tracksuit fully turned his body about towards the direction of the female fox that was causing him so much trouble... only to find she was no longer standing there. The mafia muscle turned left and right, aiming with his gun as he did, searching for wherever she could have gone.

The white-pelted ursine found her standing beside the curled up form of Kevin as the polar bear appeared to be trying to keep his face together. The Latina vulpine was holding the RF 83 in both her hands, the back of the much larger firearm's handle pressed against her abdomen to steady it as she took aim.

"FANCULO!" Raymond screamed as he ended up throwing himself backwards to avoid the blast she let off in return; crashing into and breaking apart one of the tables as he did so from his massive body. Fortunately for Carmelita, he didn't see that in trying to use a firearm considerably larger than what she was used to, that she ended up getting thrown to her butt as well.

"What the hell was that!?" Nick yelled, trying to hear himself over the ringing in his ears. "No, I mean seriously! Just what **IS THAT**!?" What the hell was she thinking, using a weapon that she couldn't possibly handle properly?

Carmelita snorted. "So what if it's built for a polar bear, Nick?" She said, making him realize that despite being a handgun, it looked like he was holding an oddly shaped shotgun against her. The woman then grunted as she got herself back into a sitting position and took a stance to brace herself once more as she aimed back at the polar bear adorned with an orange-accented track uniform, putting them at a stalemate. "I've handled larger weapons than this!"

Looking back and forth between the gun in both her paws and the one settled in the right hand of the much larger predator, Wilde's eyes widening to their maximum potential as his tail went completely limp. The male fox not only realized that she wasn't kidding him but that he had **FOUR** of those things aimed on him earlier. Knowing how close to death one was and how badly it could have been was a sobering truth to accept and he didn't argue with her on the matter further.

Meanwhile, Michael had yet to notice the group's head had been knocked back as he searched fervently for the son of their boss's enemy. "Come on out, little bear. We'll all leave here in one piece if you do~oooo," the last white-pelted ursine sing-songed as he decided the fastest way to find the brat was to kick over tables and booths. "If you would have come along quietly, this place wouldn't be in shambles. Really, it's your fault, so just come along now."

Eyes narrowing angrily as she realized one of the thugs was still after the child, Carmelita's muzzle pulled back in a frown. "Where do you think you're going, buddy!?" She snapped at him as she hefted the Italian .38 Special and took aim at him.

His left eat twitching as it picked up the sound of a firearm's hammer being cocked, the large ursine snorted. "Look, lady... I don't have time for this," he said in all seriousness. "Despite how the others went off half-cocked, you're _not even an issue_!" He hissed as he pushed aside yet another table. "Sure, you've showed off a surprising amount of skill but we're still **bigger and stronger**. Even with a gun, you're a piss-poor shot. It's too big for you. Just drop it and run and maybe, if you never show your worthless hide around Tundratown again, I'll talk the others into forgetting about you as well," Michael promised as he smacked another table out of the way to reveal... an Arctic vixen?

"Uh... hello?" The little lady chirruped as she raised her right paw and waved. "Lovely weather we're having, aren't we?" She asked as sweetly as she could, doing her best to distract the man while her Finny kept the little guy moving. "Some real nice snow out there!"

Twitching, the polar bear gave the tiny female fox a curt nod. "Yes. Now move aside! I would rather not hurt anyone if I can help it." Unlike his fellows, he wasn't stupid. Maiming or killing someone was far worse than simply tearing up a private business. At worst, he'd have to pay for repairs and/or fix it himself. Actually physically harming another animal if not outright killing them? Well, that was time in the slammer he didn't want to deal with!

The Arctic vixen blinked her bright blue eyes. "Um... about that? I'll have to give you a response of, 'no'." She offered in a firm voice. "How about I just sit here and you go around me~ _eee_!?" She cried out as he gave her a swift kick with his foot, sending her rolling up and over a number of times to get her out of his path.

Seeing poor Cherry get treated as a kickball made her blood boil. "HEY!" Inspector Fox snapped as she raised the Franchi RF 83 higher, making sure she targeted the man's head. "If you think I'm going to let you get away with that..."

A deep chuckle reverberated in Michael's throat. "You will..." he murmured as he gazed over to and then past her. A most devious grin blossomed across his muzzle before he added in a haughty voice, "Or else Raymond is going to blow Wilde to pieces."

Her eyes widening at those words, the vixen spun about only to see that, yes, the Arctic ursine who seemed to be leading the group was upright in a sitting position, her friend firmly caught in the grasp of his left paw as the polar predator had the gun in his other hand pressed firmly against the vulpine's scalp. "Carm...?" Nick squeaked out, gritting his teeth as he could feel the barrel of the firearm grinding into his skull.

The orange eyed mafia muscle smirked in a haughty manner as he went back to looking for the cub. "See now? You just be a good girl, let us find the brat and you can all leave."

Hearing that, the white-pelted ursine with a gold dollar sign necklace snapped, "What do you mean we're letting them leave! After what they did to my brother, I'm going to—"

"Shut up, Raymond! We don't need any more problems!" Michael firmly stated, interrupted his fellow thug. "Yes, I _know_ they wronged us but let's finish what we started first! _**Then**_ we can talk about putting thieving foxes and slut vixens in their place, okay?" He asked in a bit of a patronizing manner. He didn't really think his cousin would be able to handle that Latin spitfire anyway. _Though it might be amusing to watch him try_ , he thought as he grabbed another table.

However, before the search could truly continue unimpeded, there was a jingle of a bell as the entrance's door opened once more. Both polar bears turned about at the same time Carmelita raised her head. It was yet another polar bear, albeit one that was smartly dressed in a black silk jacket and pressed pants combo with a fine bright green turtle neck. The Arctic predator had an odd look to him thanks to the obvious burn along his right eye that turned the eyebrow and top eyelid into a taut, melted mess that was only partially hidden by the strewn lengthy strands of hair that were combed over it.

What **really** stood out about him, however, was the fact the muscular mammal entered the establishment carrying an AK-47 with a 6H2 bayonet on the end of it. A critical... _fashion choice_... that was mimicked by the literal dozen white-furred ursine men that entered the establishment after him; the numerous polar bears making a literal wall of angry winter predators and rapid-fire weaponry.

Needless to say, despite being a seasoned officer of the law, the orange-pelted vixen's jaw dropped. The sheer amount of heavy firepower that was on display was unnerving. The only reason she had any hope for her situation was that the other white-pelted bears in track suits and the one with a busted knee were staring with wide-eyes full of fear.

Stepping forward from his fellows, the visibly scarred and nicely suited polar predator gazed back and forth with his viridian gaze. "Morris!" He called out in a firm tone inside of the restaurant. "You can come out now!"

The tablecloth of one of the few remaining tables flipped up slightly from the bottom, the young polar bear peeking out. His fearful expression broke out into one of sheer relief as he chirruped, "Mr. Vinsent!"

"Ah, Morris! There you are!" Vinsent smiled and then he pointed his weapon at the pair bears–that still posed a possible threat–whom were responsible breaking up the place. "Now, for you two," he said in a firm voice as he moved himself between the child and Mr. Big's goons. "As it appears that no one truly got hurt, I'll be nice and let you exit this formerly fine establishment," his left eye narrowed in a glare. "But if you don't leave in the next five seconds, there's going to be a new rug in my place!" He said threateningly.

The lead of the gathered mafia mob cringed as he turned about to face the man, handgun in one paw and the small red fox in the other. "Can we at least take this useless pelt with us?" He asked hopefully. It wasn't much but if the boss had someone to take his frustration out on, he wouldn't do it to _them_!

His eyes widening at that comment, the little boy knew he had to act. Running up to the large polar bear with a Russian assault rifle, the young cub tugged on the hem of his black jacket. "Please, Mr. Vinsent! Don't let them take Uncle Nicky! They're gonna hurt him!"

Nodding his head rapidly, the crimson-pelted canid agreed, "Yeah, Mr. Vinsent! Don't let them take the boy's favorite Uncle Nicky! They're gonna h~ **URK**!" He garbled out as the ursine in the track-suit clenched his impressive paw tightly around him.

Raising the barrel of his firearm, the head of Mr. Kohlodno's hotel security didn't need to be told twice... even though he actually had been. "I regret to inform you, _comrade_... that the young master wishes you to release the fox."

Raising one of her navy blue eyebrows, the vixen's mind was now working a mile a minute as she processed that bit of information. Her jaw moving silently as she mouthed the phrase, 'young master'. She looked towards Wilde, hoping to get some elaboration from her fellow red fox, only to realize that he couldn't get any air into his lungs at the moment from how firmly Raymond was putting the squeeze on him.

"Tsk..." the mafia polar bear growled before he finally dropped the vulpine hustler onto his rear. "Fine!" He growled as he stood up, glaring down at the tiny canid conman. "But for the record, Wilde: I ever see your sorry hide in Tundratown again, I'm going to be skinning you alive!" He looked at Carmelita and narrowed his steely blue eyes at her. "And if you show up here for any reason, well... let's just say that I'll be having the time of my life!" He said in a rather lewd manner. He chuckled at the glare she returned in response.

Vinsent coughed softly to get the ill-mannered goon's attention. "If you're done making your hollow, meaningless threats then I suggest you, your pal, your two injured friends, and any other buddies you have hiding around here get out head to a doctor's... or not." He smirked. "Really, it's not my business if you live or die. I merely prefer you not expire in Mr. Largo's fine restaurant. Word of dead bodies being found on the premises is just bad for business."

Turning to glare at the male mammal with the scarred face, Raymond snorted in disgust as he made his way over to Kevin. He aided Michael in pulling their fellow Arctic animal to his feet; the polar bear's white hands stained a solid red with his own blood. It was obvious that the vixen had done quite a number on his face with the expert use of speed and a fire extinguisher. As he made his way past the leader of this contingent of Russian rubes, the ursine in black track-suit with blue pin-stripes and crown emblem on the chest promised, "This isn't over. Little Italy is Mr. Big's territory, you Commie bastard!"

The facial-scarred ursine just gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "Whatever you say, Fascist fuck," he replied as the two least injured bears helped their fellow out, while the one in a track uniform with green accents hobbled out on his own to the white limousine parked out front, a visible limp to his stride as he did his best to gingerly drag his left leg.

Ignoring the pissing contest between two men of rival factions of organized crime, Carmelita made her way over to her fellow red fox. Kneeling beside him to stabilize his sitting position, the Hispanic vulpine quietly asked, "Nicholas... how're you holding up?"

Shaking his head a few times as he tried to clear the muddled thoughts that filled his mind, the male fox turned his gaze to look over to the lovely Latina lady. His emerald eyes meeting her chocolate orbs, he merely stared in those depths for as long as he could manage before mustering the courage to suggest, "We _**really**_ need to renegotiate my hazard pay..."

Although she scoffed at such a response when it came to his safety, the Hispanic woman did feel a bit of relief as Wilde seemed to be his usual self. "If you can say that, then you're doing okay," she quipped as she looked at their surroundings. Shaking her head, the woman let off a small, depressed sigh. "What a mess." And all she wanted was to have a freaking pizza, not get caught up in a gang-war for crying out loud! Why wouldn't they give peace a chance?

Or more importantly pizza for that matter!?

"Come on, Wilde. Take my hand..." she said as she offered him her paw. They needed to get out before anything else happened. If the police showed up, she doubted Chief Bogo would take her presence at the scene of a crime all that well after he told her she was suspended.

Looking at the woman's extended mitt, the canid conman gratefully took it. "Thank you, Carm," he replied as he was able to stand up again with her aide. Taking his hand back from hers, the male vulpine brought both paws behind him and pressed down on the base of his spine just above the base of his tail as he bent backwards slightly, getting the vertebrae in his back to crack. "Good Gouda, I thought I was a goner..." he murmured.

Despite the seriousness of the situation going on around her, the off-duty policewoman couldn't help but smirk a little. "Personally, I thought you were going to be a goner too. And I don't mean when that asshole managed to grab you either." At the confused look he gave her, the Latina vulpine explained, "Seriously, Nicholas. That throw was **pathetic**."

He grimaced and slouched at hearing that. "I have next to no muscles in my arms or legs," he admitted. "It's why I try to avoid situations like this." It certainly didn't help that he never had a dad to play catch with growing up either, but he wasn't about to volunteer that information. He didn't want to coax the woman into trying to pry into his personal life.

Frowning slightly, the woman nodded her head in acceptance. After a bit more consideration about what was going n, the Hispanic vixen replied, "I understand. You're the sort that depends on his brain and wits rather than his physical attributes."

"That's not _entirely_ true," the con-mammal was quick to argue. At her curious expression, he explained, "I do have my boyish good looks to fall back on now and again." He batted his eyes at her in a manner he thought was charming.

Inspector Fox merely chuckled at her fellow fox's antics. "I swear, Wilde... you are going to be the death of me," the woman said as she shook her head good-naturedly. "Now come on. Let's get out of here. I think you and Finnick had had more than enough adventure for one day." At the look he gave her, she offered, "I'll cook you guys something."

Granted, she wasn't the best chef, but the male vulpine didn't need to know that.

Mulling over that for a moment, Nick would have responded... except for the fact the large polar bear intervened. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" Vinsent questioned curiously as he gazed down at the pair of much smaller predators.

"Not really... but after today?" Carmelita sighed and shook her head. "This is the second shootout I've been in today! I'm going to need at least a couple days of rest to recover from this." It was almost ironic that she did have such an opportunity coming her way thanks to the machinations of the damned City Council.

That made the eyebrow of the man's good eye rise in curiosity. "Second?" Vinsent blinked his left eye before leaning in to get a close look at her. "...You're that new cop, aren't you? The one that took down the thug that tried to rob that convenience store in Downtown earlier today, yes?"

Blinking her bright brown eyes once, twice, the vixen hesitantly nodded her head. "...Yes..." she answered cautiously. She tensed a little as the man chuckled. It was a deep baritone that reverberated within the large male ursine's chest. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox," he replied, surprising the woman as he not only used her full name but addressed her by her proper Interpol rank. "This is... merely a most fortuitous circumstance. The boss has been interested in making contact with you since he heard about the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. You see, he wished to confirm some things."

Needless to say, such a vague response was setting off all kinds of warning bells in the back of the orange-pelted vixen's head. "...I appreciate the offer but I do believe I need to attend to my friends after this debacle. Perhaps another time," she replied in as diplomatic a manner as possible while she placed her left arm over the male red fox's shoulders...

...Only to come to a stop as the finely-dressed Arctic animal moved the bayonet of his assault rifle before them, barring their path. "I am sorry, Inspector Fox... but that wasn't a request."

Bringing her right hand up to her face, Carmelita rubbed her forehead in growing irritation. She hated this but she was not about to risk the safety of her friend. "One condition," she stated firmly. "You make sure everyone here gets home safely and I'll agree to meet with your boss."

"Carm?" Nick began quietly as stared at her in shock. There was no way was she thinking...

As if sensing her friend's distress, the Latina vixen assured him, "I said I would meet with him. Nothing else."

The scarred polar bear nodded his head. "Fair enough, I suppose." Vinsent turned his head over his right shoulder to look towards his men. "We can make sure that everyone gets to leave without worry." If that was all it took to get her to see his boss, he wasn't going to complain.

Letting off a sigh of defeat, the female red fox lowered her head. She hated doing this but she was out-gunned, out-numbered, defenseless, exhausted, and people she cared about were at risk. If she helped them get away safely, whatever happened would be worth it.

Seeing the look of utter defeat on the vulpine woman's lovely features, it was then that Nick did something he normally wasn't known for. He stood up for the little guy. "Hey now. Vinsent... I know it's been awhile but... can I go with her?" He motioned over to the Arctic vixens whom were being looked over by some of the Russian mafia soldiers. "My pal Finnick is the boyfriend to Cherry of Kozlov's Angels so I doubt he'd be leaving them anytime soon. Not to mention I wish to speak with the boss as well. I want to be there for my friend and it's..." he paused as he gathered his nerve. "It's been awhile since Mr. Cold and I had a face-to-face."

That immediately caught the Hispanic policewoman's attention; her head snapping towards the direction of her fellow red fox so fast that it actually made the length of her navy blue tresses fly over her shoulder. " _ **Nick**_?" She said his name in a bewildered tone. What did he have to do with a known crime boss!?

Gazing down at the male fox for a moment, the head of security for the Snow Palace Resort finally nodded his head in acceptance. "Fair enough. Now come. Those Italian scrubs will have left by now and we have rides waiting out front."

"Lead the way then," Nick replied with more bravado in his voice than he actually felt. After all, he was a mammal that lived by the motto, 'never let them see you sweat'. With all the lovely vixen had done for him this day alone, the **least** he could do was man up and try to be the brave one for once... or at least appear to be such.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the '51 Ford Bunny-Built pickup drove past the black-painted iron gates of the Zootopia Police Academy, Judy's bright violet eyes were awash with excitement. The gray-furred lagomorph deeply drank in the sight of the immense grass fields and red brick buildings that sprawled into the horizon with a sense of wonderment. Yes, it was a very utilitarian setup to be sure but one that held the promise of a better future for her... and in turn would allow _her_ to make a better future for **all** animals.

"It's bigger than I could have imagined," she finally said in complete awe. She began leaning over the side of the wood-wall of the vehicle's flatbed to get a better look. Yet, even as she did so, the little lapin lady was mindful to only lean out as far as she could before she got to the point of risking getting herself ejected from the bumpy ride. Seeing what happened to poor Ms. Bellwether on the way up to Zootopia had been a big reminder of riding safely in the back.

Although she hadn't been meaning to get a response to her statement, the sheep sitting beside her helpfully supplied, "Of course it is. It was designed for much larger mammals in mind. You can fit a bunny into an establishment built for an elephant but you can't get a pachyderm into a rabbit's burrow."

Bringing her right hand up behind her, Judy let off a giggle as she rubbed the back of her head. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense." Really, she couldn't imagine the amount of grease that would be needed to get an elephant in or out of a rabbit burrow.

Nodding her head, the sheep was more than happy to add, "Even better, this place has a phone! We can get you settled and I can get place a call to City Hall to procure a ride!" The glee in her voice was prevalent to anyone in ear-shot. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate all the Hopps family did for her while she was stuck out in the Burrows, heaven's no! But now that she was technically within Zootopia city limits, she could call upon professional help.

Preferably professional enough to get her home without asking her, 'what's that smell'...

"Oh you don't need worry about that," the energetic lapin lady replied. "My parents would be more than happy to give you a ride home, right dad?" She chirruped as she happily volunteered her parents' aid.

"Er... about that, honey-bunch..." Stu called out from the side window. "While we always believe in helping our fellow mammal, we don't want to leave all two-hundred and seventy-six of your brothers and sisters alone for too long. We can only trust the rest of the elder kits to make sure the younger ones don't cause problems for only so long." He looked a little ashamed at admitting that. "We truly mean no offense to you, Miss Bellwether. We appreciate everything you've done for our daughter but the Academy is as far as we can go. We already have quite the drive back to deal with, as is."

"Terribly sorry," Bonnie agreed. "But don't worry. If you ever find yourself in Bunnyburrow again, know that there will be a friendly face there to give you a helping paw if you need it!" She promised the female bovidae that had aided their daughter in getting this far with her dream... a dream that made both her husband and the motherly rabbit herself nervous to see their little girl attempt to fulfill.

Bellwether merely waved them off. "No problem, really!" She chirruped sweetly. Honestly, she would much prefer actual cushioned seats to the wooden flatbed of a pickup truck anyway. "It's like I said: I can just call someone to take me home. Besides, I can just charge it to the city!" She said gleefully. Granted, she was going to make sure the bill went directly to Mayor Lionheart but hey! He was still part of the city, right?

That was an obvious relief to the married couple. "I'm glad to see you being so understanding about this," Bonnie replied as Stu drove the vehicle up to the front of the fine establishment that created the future forces of the Zootopia Police Department. "Again, we appreciate everything you've done for our little Judy!"

Nodding his head in agreement, the portly male rabbit pulled the gearshift into the parking gear as he added, "Oh yes! Jude the Dude has wanted to be a police officer since she was the tiniest little thing!" Leaving the motor of the work vehicle running, the man opened his door and got out from the car. Coming around to the back of the pickup, he told his daughter, "C'mon, Judy! Toss your old man your stuff. I can catch it!" He held out his arms, his fingers clenching rapidly for emphasis.

Smiling wide at how happy her father was for her, the young woman nodded her head and lifted her suitcase up with both her hands. "Catch!" She chirruped before tossing her bag to him. Her long ears fell back behind her head, the female rabbit she winced when her father caught it and yelled in surprise; the girl's father unable to handle the bag. As he ended up falling backwards and landing flat on his posterior, the girl apologized, "Sorry!"

Cringing a little at the stinging sensation that coursed through his bum, the older rabbit replied, "Don't worry, Jude! Your dad is okay! I've caught bushels of berries heavier than this! I'll be all right!" He grunted as he squirmed underneath the suitcase, fighting the baggage that had him otherwise pinned.

Raising an eyebrow, the young bunny got down from the back of the truck on her own before carefully broaching her father's safety with the inquiry of, "Dad? Do you need a paw?"

The man firmly shook his head in a negative fashion. "Nope! I'm fine! No need to worry about me!" He chuckled nervously as he tried to pull himself free from the sheer weight of his daughter's luggage. " _Criminy, what does she have in here, rock collection?_ " He muttered under his breath as he tried to save face.

Climbing out the back of the vehicle, Bellwether took a moment to adjust her glasses as she blinked her eyes few times. Gazing over him for a moment, the lamb couldn't help but tell Judy as an aside, "I suspect that your father didn't brace himself properly is all."

Nodding her head, the female rabbit let off a small sigh. "Right..." she murmured. "Otherwise it's just clothes, some hygiene products, and a few other necessities."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Stu! You really need to be more careful," the lapin mother stated as she got out of the passenger's side of the car's cab. Coming up to stand beside her spouse, the lovely rabbit looked over her downed husband and frowned. "Did you throw your trick knee out again?"

The man let off a little huff of indignation. "Of course not, Bon-Bon! My knee is fine!" The male rabbit insisted as he kicked out his left leg for emphasis.

 _*Crick*!_

"... _Eee~_ _ **eeeeeeeeeeeeee**_..."

Closing her eyes, the older female rabbit shook her head in near-disbelief as she let off a small sigh of exasperation. "And now we have to see the doctor..." she said in complete dismay.

"There's an on-site infirmary," a new voice spoke up, causing the trio of women surrounding the downed man by the vehicle to raise their heads. They caught sight of a large polar bear coming down the steps of the main hall and towards them. "But I have to ask: what the heck are you all doing here? This is private property!" She had seen the pickup truck from the window of her office and wanted to know what the heck was going on.

Recognizing the woman in ZPA sweat shirt and pants, baseball cap, and whistle necklace, the sheep managed to smile in relief. "Ah! Director Fuchsia! It's me! Assistant Mayor Bellwether!" She waved her cloven hooved hand at the ursine as she closed the distance between them to catch the large predator's attention. "Would you please be kind enough to lend us a paw?"

Getting even closer to the group, the woman looked over the gathered mammals with a genuinely curious stare. While she was surprised to see the bovidae woman in such a state, it was without a doubt Mayor Lionheart's Aid. "Ah! It's quite a surprise to see you out here, Assistant Mayor!" She had to take another gaze over the group before asking, "But why do you all look like you stepped out of a rerun of, 'Green Acres'?"

"A pleasant drive through the country side," Stu intoned, wincing as his knee flared up from trying to turn his body to look up at the much taller woman. "And my knee can't take much more of i~ _iiiiit_..." he squealed out that last word.

Staring down at the male rabbit in obvious distress for a moment, the large predatory woman then turned her attention back to Bellwether for clarification on what he told her; a black eyebrow rising up to be hidden beneath the brim of her cap.

Chuckling nervously, Dawn decided to get to the point. "Well, 'Coach'... as for why we're here I would like to introduce you to Judith! Judith Hopps!" She then turned to said rabbit and told her, "Judith, this is Coach Chelsea Fuchsia, the Director of the Zootopia Police Academy."

"Hi!" The little lapin cutie chirruped sweetly as she gazed up at the much taller polar bear. "It's nice to meet you, Miss! Please, call me Judy!" She held out her hand in greeting.

Offering the obviously confused ursine woman a toothy smile, the sheep helpfully explained, "She's here as part of Mayor Lionheart's new Mammal Inclusion Initiative!"

Needless to say, the response the female predator gave was not one that any of them expected. "Oh for fuck's sake! You have GOT to be shitting me!" Motioning to the violet-eyed lapin with a wave of her massive paw, the polar bear snapped, "Look at her! **SHE'S A BUNNY**!"

That made the little lapin lady twitch in irritation before she leaned her head back to gaze up at the much taller animal. "And what's your point?" Judy asked, frowning at the large mammal, challenging her reasoning as to why the bear would be upset about her wanting to become a police officer.

The challenge was accepted. "You're tiny!" The Academy Instructor stated firmly. "You're weak! And worst of all? You're _cute_! There is no way in hell you have what it takes to even make the cut! All paperwork has to be approved and physical check-ups administered. Even with the Initiative going on, I can already tell that you do **NOT** make the grade when it comes to the secondary aspect!"

Chuckling nervously, Ms. Bellwether decided to try and cut in before things went further South by quickly interjecting, "Uh, excuse me, Ms. Fuchsia?" When the white-pelted predator turned her head to the left to gaze down at her, the petite sheep explained, "Ms. Hopps here was given pre-approved papers to fill out. Paperwork, which I might add, is already in the mail."

Blinking her eyes once, twice, the large ursine just stared down at the small wool-covered woman. "...That is a load of bullshit," she finally replied. Speaking of which, the Assistant Mayor kind of smelled like such too. "If that's true, then fine... whatever. I'll put her through the ringer like I do all recruits. But first things, first! YOU!" She made her way over to the male rabbit and bent over, taking the suitcase off of him. "We're getting you to the infirmary! Nurse Holstein should be able to do something for you."

Taking a deep breath now that he had the luggage off of him, the patriarch of the Hopps family titled his head back to look up at his butch savior. "Thuh... thank you," Stu replied with grimace. Oh boy howdy, it sure as the hoo-ha-hey wasn't going to be fun to get around on a bum leg with all of his kids around.

Although the eldest daughter of the Hopps family was more than a little annoyed at both the woman's firm dismissal of her ability and her blatant use of the C-word–only rabbits were allowed to call each other that–the petite bunny did appreciate her looking past her prejudices enough to help out her father. "Thank you, Coach Fuchsia," she said gratefully.

The polar bear let off a chuckle at the small prey mammal's gratitude. "Don't go thanking me yet, Fluff-Butt. You haven't been through your first obstacle course, let alone one of my morning drills!" She smirked deviously. "Give it a week: then we'll see how grateful you really are to have me around."

Now more determined than ever to prove she had what it took to be the greatest officer in the ZPD, Judy nodded her head and punched her right first into her open left palm. "I'll show you that I'm more than just a cute face!"

Noticing the spark of fire from the rabbit's personality, the polar bear gave her a nod and a grunt. "We'll see, Fluff-Butt. We'll see... if you can't keep up with the demands of this Academy, then I guarantee that you'll find yourself dead out in the field if you over-estimate your abilities."

Oh yes, the coach had known more than her fair share of seasoned police officers that had gotten themselves in over their heads out in the real world.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Staring out the window, Officer Fox did her best to memorize her surroundings as the Russian polar bears chauffeured her and Nick towards possible danger; the black GAZelle minibus with tinted windows causing snow to kick up at either side of it in tall cresting waves due to the sheer weight of the vehicle.

Her eyes turning from the Tundratown streets to the backsides of the two suited polar bears sitting in rear of the vehicle with them, the Latina vixen's chocolate orbs then weaved over further to settle their gaze upon the viridian Hawaiian-shirted mammal next to her. She had been quiet since they had been forced into the vehicle but she couldn't bring herself to stay silent any longer. Leaning over to her left, the vulpine woman whispered, " _Nick... hey, Nick..._ "

His eyebrows rising up, the male red fox leaned closer towards the lovely lady to his right. Although he kept his head forward, he quietly spoke out of the side of his mouth. " _What is it, Carm?_ "

" _Where are we going?_ " She inquired in a hushed tone. " _We've been riding in this bus for a while now._ " Over time, the scenery had become less snowy buildings and simply more snow, **period**.

His face retaining a neutral expression, the male tod replied, " _I believe they're taking us to the Snowy Hills area._ " At the inquisitive look she gave him, she continued to answer, " _These are Kozlov's men. We didn't end the ride in less than ten minutes so they're obviously not taking us to Kozlov's Place. Oh no, I think they're taking us right to the Snow Palace..._ " he murmured quietly. " _Really lovely resort but it's also pretty isolated. We'll actually be closer to the Meadowlands District than Tundratown proper._ " 

The Latina's vulpin's lips pulled back into a frown across her muzzle. " _How bad is that?_ "

" _If they want to make you disappear, well... no one will ever find you._ " Nick gulped softly in worry for them. This simply wasn't a good situation to have found themselves in. He really hoped that these guys didn't want to make either of them go, 'poof' over something. It was unlikely but dealing with mafia-minded mammals like this was **always** a risky venue.

Of course, making people disappear didn't always have to include dead bodies as the end result. The fox had heard rumors of animal trafficking leak out from Tundratown before. It was the kind of thing that made Wilde cut ties with Mr. Cold in the first place once he had paid off his loan from the much larger predator. He didn't know how true it was and frankly? He didn't want to get caught up in it one way or the other.

Her ears flattening back against her scalp, the woman inhaled deeply through her nose before exhaling out her mouth. "... _Great_..." the vixen murmured in aggravation. Shaking her head for a moment, the woman then returned her attention to her fellow captive canid. "Hey, Nick," she spoke up a little louder so that she wasn't particularly whispering anymore.

"Hmm?" Finally turning his head to outright to gaze at the woman beside him, the crimson-pelted vulpine replied, "What is it, Carm?"

"Two things," she said firmly. "First off, remind me to **never** go anywhere without my shock pistol again if I can get away with it."

The male red fox nodded his head. That was doable. Heck, he wasn't going to feel better going out with her _unless_ she had that damn thing either! "Will do," he chirruped firmly in response. "And the other thing?"

Her lips stretching taut across her muzzle in a straight line as to not convey any potential expression, the woman gazed through tresses of navy blue hair as she asked point-blank, "What is your relationship to a known mob boss?"

Letting off a small sigh, Nick craned his head forward slightly. He had a feeling she wasn't going to like having discovered that about him. Still, he wasn't about to lie to her of all people... especially since he hadn't done anything illegal for the polar predator. "I've had to borrow money from the man and I've babysat his kid, nephews, and nieces to both earn money from him and extend how long I had to pay the loan off." It wasn't pleasant but at least he was able to get his life on track, at least somewhat, after all of that.

It was the borrowed money aspect that caught Carmelita's attention. "A loan? You took a loan from..." she trailed off as her eyes darted forward, making sure the polar bears weren't visibly listening. Still, to make certain, she merely tilted her heads towards them, motioning to her fellow red fox that she was talking about their organization. Seeing him nod his head, the Latina vixen chirruped questioningly, "Why?"

His shoulders sagging, the male fox let off a yet another sigh. "You're probably going to think this is stupid but..." he looked over to her and gave off a barely audible chuckle. "Would you believe I wanted to buy land to start a business of my own?"

While she didn't think it stupid, such **did** surprise the female vulpine. "A business?" She repeated, now genuinely curious. "What kind of business?" Considering the cash came from a mob boss, it could have been any sort of unsavory thing! Although, if the male red fox admitted to wanting to get a bacon-smuggling trade going, the Interpol Inspector wasn't sure she could bring herself to hold it against him.

The crimson-pelted canid's mouth shifted into small, sad smile. "Don't laugh Carm... but I wanted to open a theme park in Zootopia." He looked up at her, the seriousness in his gaze readily apparent. "I had a vision. I had staff, a location picked out, construction plans... I just couldn't get anyone to give me a loan."

That caught the Latina policewoman's attention. Hearing that someone wanted to open a theme park was something she could honestly say was one of the most unique responses she ever got to asking someone why they accepted money from the mob. "And you couldn't get a loan from any upstanding businesses...?" she trailed off, giving the man a chance to fill in the blanks.

"No credit," he practically spat out. "No one would give me a loan, credit card, or even let me open a bank account before so I had no credit. None of the banks would deign to give me credit so I could start a history, neither would let me open an account because... well," he motioned to himself with his right paw. "I'm a fox. At least Ms. Wideload of Hippo Loans was kind enough to explain it was the lack of credit history. Besides her, I think the closest I came to actually getting someone to loan me money was the Piggy Bank but then I made one bad, 'hogwash' pun and I was tossed out on my tail."

"So lack of options drove you to less than savory means..." Carmelita surmised, having heard this story numerous times before and knowing it all too well. As he nodded his head in affirmation, the Hispanic vulpine let off a small sigh of her own. "Nick..."

Holding his paw up to motion her to stay quiet, the pawpsicle hustler continued, "On the flip side of the coin, I **do** have credit now." Watching the woman blinked those lovely chocolate eyes of hers in shock, he smiled as he nodded his head at her. "Yeah, such surprised me too! But Kozlov told there was, 'no point in loaning money to people who pay me back and not tell others about it'. Basically, because I paid him off, I got a good credit review to start a history at least."

The woman smiled a little at that, realizing that her friend managed to catch something of a break despite putting himself into such a dangerous situation. "I can see that, being as he owns a few businesses..." she said, relenting that much. "But what happened? Why aren't you the head of some theme park? When we first met, you were running a pawpicle stand."

"Not just _some_ theme park, my dear Miss Fox," Nick said, starting to feel a little boastful. "Wilde Times would have been the theme park by predators, for predators! We were and pretty much still are the largest untapped market in Zootopia! I was ready to promise my fellow carnivores happiness! Sure they say you can't put a price on it but I was willing to beg to differ with a cost of nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents a day... plus tax!"

Tilting her head slightly as she looked at him in a curious fashion, Carmelita couldn't help but interject, "That still doesn't answer my earlier question. Why isn't there a theme park?" With a credit rating he should have had a much easier time getting money from a more reputable source.

His shoulders sagging as his own ears pressed back against his scalp in defeated, the troubled tod lowered his head forward. "...They wouldn't sell."

The vixen blinked her eyes, caught off-guard by such a response. "...What? But you said you had the money."

"When the warehouse owners found out their potential buyer was a fox they immediately shut the deal down. No deposit, no return. I was outright barred from buying the place because of my species." The male red fox shook his head in disgust. "I _tried_ to get others to buy it for me but the owners wised up pretty fast. Basically they realized anyone coming to them with the money almost immediately was from me. Finally I couldn't hold onto the cash any longer. I gave it back to Kozlov and spent the following year paying off the interest."

Carmelita twitched irritably at that. The actions of her fellow mammals at times were just simply... **deplorable**. "So what you're basically telling me is that specism kept you from following your dream." It wasn't a question.

Nodding his head, Nick continued, "Still, Mr. Kholodno was very understanding... mostly because I didn't foolishly waste his money and he still made some profit by lending it out in the first place. If there's one thing I had learned a long time ago, it was to never let yourself be in debt if you could help it. Because the first moment your head dips under the line, this city will eat you alive."

"More wisdom than most people have," Carmelita muttered, trying to offer Wilde at least that much. She knew from her time in Paris just how expensive things could get. It was only in the three years she spent living with Sly that she truly learned what she was dealing with when it came to expenses and France's taxes as she and the raccoon didn't do as much global-hopping during their time together as they had that half decade playing cops and robbers. The Hispanic vixen could only imagine how bad it was in Zootopia where the merchants might try and screw someone over because of Specist attitudes and then get away with it because of the prevailing mindset.

However, before she could ask any further questions, such was when **it** came into view. At first the female red fox thought they were going to start climbing up into the mountains, only to realize the structure _**WAS**_ their destination. Her jaw dropped, muzzle wide open as she stared at the architectural achievement that had to have been ninety-percent masterfully sculpted frozen water. "Jesús Cristo..." she murmured in awe as the Russian GAZelle pulled up to the front of the resort where the parking was; the view around the hotel being illuminated by skylights to add a bit of Las Vegas glamor.

Leaning next to her, the canid male smirked. "Yeah... amazing, isn't it?" Nick asked, awe prevalent in his own voice. It had been a considerable while since he'd returned to the Snow Palace but it really was an amazing thing to behold. "It's technically listed as a summer resort for Arctic animals but let me tell you this much, Carm. This place has the best skiing in all of Zootopia," he told the vixen besides him.

Slowly nodding her head, Carmelita replied, "I can't remember the last time I went skiing... that wasn't cut short by someone injuring themselves grievously."

Nick couldn't help but let off a small laugh at the woman's comment. "Isn't getting badly hurt part and parcel when it comes to skiing?"

"...Honestly I'm beginning to think it is," she said meaningfully as their vehicle came to a stop and more black-suited polar bears came out; practically surrounding the minibus.

One came right to the side of the automobile of Russian-make and firmly grasped the door handle. Sliding it open, he stared at the pair of foxes over the rim of his sunglasses before turning to his fellow polar predator that was sitting closest to the open door of the large van. "This is them?"

Nodding his head in response, the other suited polar bear replied, "Da, comrade. These are the ones who protected the boss's son." When he finished, he began unbuckling his own seatbelt.

"Right." The suited ursine standing outside the black vehicle replied as he stepped back from the van. "If you would be so kind to exit the bus, we would be most glad to take you to Mr. Kholodno. There is much he will want to say to you..." his sunglasses lowered again as his deep brown eyes settled on Nick. "Particularly to Mr. Wilde here."

Realizing he knew this polar bear, Nick grinned at the ursine. "Hey, Danny! Long time no see. You still unbeaten in darts?" He queried of the larger pred, hoping some banter would help ease the tension he was certain Carmelita was feeling.

Chuckling, the white-pelted bear nodded as he replied, "Quite so. I'm still unbeaten as long as people refrain from cheating."

That made the vulpine grimaced at what the larger predator was implying. "Well, I hope they got what was coming to them."

The ursine's left eye twitched. "It was my boss."

The male red fox blinked his eyes once, twice, _thrice_. "...Oh..." Wild gulped nervously as Danny shook his head. "Uh... sorry about that," he apologized sincerely.

"No worries," he replied nonchalantly. "Is required to lose to boss... especially when he is drinking." When the male fox was out of the car, he then leaned forwards and offered the vixen his large paw to help her down from the height of the vehicle.

Looking down at his paw for a moment, Carmelita brought her head back up and politely replied, "It's okay. I can get down on my own, Mister... um, Danny, was it?" She then smiled, trying to follow Wilde's lead of being social.

"Actually, it's Daniil... but is simpler for Capitalists to call me, 'Danny'..." he explained as he pushed his paw closer to her.

Realizing the finely-dressed mammal wasn't going to let it go, the vulpine sighed and took his offered hand, allowing him to help her to get down from the minibus. Once she was on the ground beside Nick, she noticed as a number of the polar bears began to gather to them, forming something of a barrier around them. But whether it was to protect them or keep the pair of red foxes from escaping, had yet to be seen.

Realizing there was nowhere to go but where they allowed him, the male fox gave the group a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "So, lead the way?" Nick asked as politely as he could.

And with that said, the polar bears began moving, where the vulpine pair found themselves rushed forward as more of the staff immediately began moving in behind to get between them and the vehicle, cutting them off from their surroundings. Everything around, below and above them was a sea of black suits and white fur and snow. They only knew they were actually inside the building when the snowy ground gave way to ice tile flooring that was roughly textured as to keep mammals from slipping.

As they walked, the Interpol Inspector was doing her best to make a mental map of where they were heading, counting off seconds and turns as best she could. Just because she might not be able to see what was going on around here, didn't mean she couldn't _try_ to at least create a mental map. If she had to make a run for it with Nick, she needed some way to escape. She had already made that mistake once this evening when it came to the pizzeria. She wasn't about to repeat it here.

Eventually, the polar bears at the front of the troupe turned away from the smaller predators to reveal a set of doors before them that were actually made of wood! When the doors opened, the pair of foxes found themselves greeted to the sight of an office space with a stylish décor. While the expensive furniture of wood added touches of luxury and sophistication, the office itself was actually rather narrow with a surprisingly high ceiling that, while giving off a vibe of formality, added an intimidating and overly imposing presence to the mammal sitting behind the desk at the end of the room: a polar bear in a navy blue suit with an ice blue turtleneck neck shirt. There were tones of warm colors to his outfit thanks to the orange handkerchief in his breast pocket, the amber tint of his glasses, and the numerous gold chains that adorned his neck and the rings on his finger.

Looking up from the stack of papers he had been working on upon hearing the sound of his doors being opened, a smile blossomed on his face. Waiting a moment for two of the other polar bears to enter–one which Carmelita recognized as Vinsent–the leader of the group rose up from his seat, standing a full head and shoulders taller than the pair of ursine men standing at the door. "Nicholas!" He greeted in a hearty, accented baritone as he came around the desk. His right hand swiped down, grasping the male fox's upper torso and then some fully in one paw before bringing the fox up to his eye-height. "Is so good to see you again!"

Gasping as the massive palm and fingers pressed down on his ribcage, the vulpine needed to take a moment to breath before he could respond to the much larger predator. "Ah, Mr. Kozlov, sir! It's been so long! Might I say, you're looking well," Nick chirruped sweetly as he smiled at the bigger mammal. "I've been meaning to call, really! Sadly, I've been so busy with work and managing my living arrangements that I haven't had a chance to call or even visit! Terribly sorry about that!"

The mafia boss and resort owner chuckled at the tiny tod's nervous banter, finding it rather amusing. "Is all right, Nicholas..." he said in a firm yet polite tone. "I understand that a fine, upstanding hustler like yourself doesn't wish to broach the large scale operations someone like myself is used to. Even though I am out of the game, certain aspects of my reputation linger and might throw light on your own underhanded dealings." As he held the mammal aloft in one hand, the man idly scratched his chin with the index finger of his other mitt. "Or was it the fact that your relationship with Vanilla fell through so terribly that you were afraid to show yourself around the boss of my self-named Kozlov's Angels?"

Carmeltia went wide-eyed as she listened to all the large man listed off about Nicholas. _Hustler? Underhanded dealings? Dated one of a mafia boss's employees!?_ She mentally checked off, not sure she wanted to believe such about the man was possible.

Smiling nervously as he could only imagine what the lovely Miss Fox– **a police officer** –was thinking as the man blurted out his nasty little secrets one after another, the crimson-pelted canid did his best to steer the topic away from such things. "Well, you know how it is! You do whatever you can to survive! I have been trying to go straight though!" And Gouda knew Nick certainly didn't want to admit it, but the whole thing with Vanilla _**was**_ still troubling him.

"I see, I see..." he murmured before he finally lowered the vulpine down onto his feet, placing the small predator atop one of the chairs before his desk. "Still, the fact is that despite your distance as of late, you _were_ there when I would have needed you most. That is something most appreciated." He smiled. "When Morris is settled, I believe he would be happy to see you again. He always had such a soft-spot for you... like you were family. And after today, I believe you might have just proven yourself such."

The Latina vixen just gawked as the man said that, realizing what the polar predator was hinting at. She never would have guessed Nick had the potential for becoming a, 'Made Mammal'. Just _**what**_ had he been doing with his life before she met him!?

Chuckling even more nervously as he too caught onto what the retired Russian mafia boss was saying, the troubled tod did his best to steer clear of this avenue of conversation as well. "Oh, it was nothing special! Really!" He chirruped with a bit more of a squeak to his voice than he would have liked. "You know how it is. We just wanted a pizza after everything else that happened today..." he trailed off as the large suited mammal nodded his head.

"You mean that shoot-out at the grocery store?" Kozlov asked, getting a nod of confirmation from Nick. "Yes, we heard about that..." he murmured as his gaze trailed over to the vixen in the room. "And you must be the one who helped distract Big's boys long enough so that my men could show up and save my son. For that, I must thank you," he said as he knelt down to one knee to get a better look at her. Taking off his glasses, he narrowed his eyes to inspect her more easily. "And your name is... Carmelita, was it?" At the woman's nod, he continued, "Would that happen to be Carmelita Montoya Fox? That name has been spreading around like wildfire since this Mammal Inclusion Initiative started but it means something far more important. So tell me." He frowned slightly as he kept staring at the mole underneath her left eye. "Were you ever in Russia, my dear?"

That last comment caught the woman off-guard. "Uh... yes, actually..." she replied slowly, not sure what he was getting at but wondering what the man's game was. "I had to deal with problems at the Krack-Karov Volcano about eight years ago. Why would you... ask... about..." she trailed off as the polar bear stared at her with now widened eyes. "Uh... is something wrong, Mr. Kholodno?" He looked as though he had seen a ghost.

The white-pelted ursine just kept staring at her for a long time, before finally murmuring, "Mater' Bozh'ya..." he brought his right hand up, surprising the vixen; the woman stiffening under his touch as he caressed the side of her face. "It's you. It really _is_ **you**..."

The woman's pupils dilated to pin-pricks at the man's invasion of her personal space. "Uh..." Carmelita almost asked for an adult... but stayed silent on the matter. For some reason, she felt that he would say that he was an adult and continue to do what he was doing anyway! Still, she did inquire of the man, "Is something wrong?"

Shaking his head, the polar bear replied, "Nyet, nyet." Finally releasing the woman's face, he stood up and turned about. With his back to the vulpine duo, he made his way behind his desk once more, the large ursine standing at the back wall for a moment before he pushed aside a portrait, showing that it was on a swing-hinge to reveal the door of the safe he had hidden behind it. Kozlov then covered the sight of it from all others in the room, but they could hear the twist and turn of the combination lock's tumblers as he worked it.

When the door opened, the owner of the Snow Palace ruffled through the papers, monetary goods, and other personal items he kept in there for protection before turning about once more, a stack of folded aged papers in his hand. He then leaned over slightly offered it to the vixen; his hand reaching down to make it easier for her to take.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the item he held. "...A newspaper..." she murmured as she took it from him, the Latina vulpine wondering what the man was getting at until she saw the image on the front. "Oh... oh, I see..." she whispered softly in understanding.

Curious as to what was going on, the crimson-pelted canid got down from his chair before taking a look, his curiosity getting the better of him. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, unable to read the Russian script. He was about to ask what was wrong when he realized something familiar adorning the front page. "Hey! That's you!" He chirruped as he motioned to the image of the vixen standing atop a pile of scrap that might have been some sort of sculpture or even a machine at some point. "What's it say?"

"The headline reads, 'Kapitalisticheskaya Politseyskiy Milashki Sumki Bol'shoy Plokhoy Ptitsy'." Smirking as the pair raised their heads, he translated for them, "In English, the front page text would read as, 'Capitalist Cop Cutie Bags Big Bad Bird'."

Twitching irritably, Carmelita could only growl out, "God almighty, I absolutely _**hated**_ the headlines that were coming out that year!" Although in all honesty this had been the tamest of the bunch. She'd seen newspapers calling her such things as, 'Hot Chick with Gun', 'Foxy Latina Hottie', 'Sexy Latin Spitfire', and all kinds of demeaning stuff during her first year as an Inspector. Calling her a, 'Cutie' was actually pretty reasonable in comparison.

Continuing to stare at the newspaper, Wilde could admit he was completely lost as to the significance of the story. "I... didn't realize television stars were criminals." The pawpsicle hustler muttered as he brought his right hand up to scratch the side of his head in confusion.

The woman sighed in exasperation. "No, Nick... not the big yellow avian who's been educating children on television for decades now. The paper is referring to the former immortal monstrosity, Clockwerk..."

Nodding his head firmly, the polar bear replied, "Yes... and in doing so, the brave Inspector Fox made herself a hero to all of us in Tundratown..."

That caught Carmelita off-guard. "...Hero?"

The polar bear smirked. " _ **Hero**_ ," he insisted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Oh... em... fudging... GOODNESS...

Again, I was writing up to the minute to get this out on time. I won't lie; this was the most difficult chapter yet. Not because of the content but the time crunch! With everything going on in my life, with the new baby, with having to winterize the house for the upcoming season, and just taking care of business and work? Out of two weeks, I only had four days free to myself to work on this chapter.

Seriously, a big hand to my Beta Readers, who were on to check my work as I wrote and even gave their two cents to make certain this came out on time. Without Nanya or Innortal, this chapter WOULD not have seen an on-time posting. 

Now then, I would like to acknowledge two of the comments from the last chapter. Chronocrosser, that IS part of what inspired me to do this story. Carmelita pretty much is the opposite of Judy... although let's be honest, Carm herself started off as the black-and-white mindset too. She's just had the experience–both in life and dating–to realize there's much more to it than that. And as the story goes, we will see more opposing parallels to the lovely lapin officer of the Zootopia film.

And CerberusX? The fact is, I look at the vehicles from the movie or art books and look for the closest real world equivalent. The fact that the names are close to being pun material make it all the more worthwhile. Heck, I didn't have to do anything for the Russian GAZelle minibuses. That IS what they're called!

Onto lighter news, some of you may notice there's a new cover on the story icon for . Whelp, that's because I got a new cover made for the story, the image created by 2013 International Inkpot Award Winner Fred Perry of Gold Digger fame; the series celebrating its 25th Anniversary this year. He did one heck of a job and I couldn't be happier. Hopefully you will all be able to see the full size image when Andy Lagopuss posts it on the Zootopia News Network website.

As a heads up, while I am aiming for an October 29th release, don't be surprised if it comes out on the 31st for Halloween. If I don't finish on time, it will have to go on a short delay as I will be attending the convention, 'Furpocalypse' in Cromwell, CT. I'm there as an attendee and if you find me, feel free to chat.

Hope you enjoy the chapter! Remember to Try Everything!

Especially Burger King's Cheetos chicken fries!


	14. Cold Comfort

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 14: Cold Comfort

It was a late Friday night in Moscow, well past eleven at night. The dance-floor of the club was packed with Ravers decked out in glow-sticks if not minimal scraps of clothing and fur-paint that would glow when exposed to black lights. As it was, the establishment was a nightmare for one employee. The flashing colored lights that illuminated patterns on the dance-floor and across the bar of the nightclub hurt the polar bear's eyes while the concussive blasts of the music's thunderous beat reverberated throughout the chest cavity of the polar predator as he sat by the bar on one of the stools as he valiantly tried to wave down either of the bartenders. Neither attended to him as both ursine men were distracted by the lovely, if not exotic ladies that crowded up against the bar. It was lovely Amur leopardesses, Siberian tigresses and even one particularly gorgeous Eurasian lynx who had those dangerous and sensual feline curves and pelt patterns that drove most predators wild and made it all too easy for the booze-slingers to ignore the man on break who's family name was on their paystubs!

Spitting on the countertop as the two men remained oblivious to his presence, the white-pelted ursine pushed himself off the stool and began to make his way back towards the entrance. Kozlov always **hated** working as a bouncer for his father's club, the Ice Imperatritsa. The music was usually so loud that one couldn't talk, so actually communicating with his fellow employees usually consisted of the bare essentials shouted directly into ears...

And he if there was one thing he despised more than dealing with the deafening techno crap that was being passed off as, 'music' it was having another predator's sharp fans that close to his face. One quick snap of the jaws and it could be all over for him. He held no delusions that being the son of the Kholodno Bratva's Pakhan hadn't put a target on him. Any enemies of the family would do whatever they could to get back at his old man for slights–either perceived or real–he may have tarnished their honor or reputation with.

Nothing was worse than a mammal with a chip on their shoulder.

Gasping out in annoyance as an intoxicated wolf spilled some of his beer onto his jacket Kozlov brought his hand down to try and wipe some of the alcohol off before it eventually froze in the cold atmosphere of the Arctic-oriented nightclub. _Scratch that. There's nothing worse but some things come damn_ _ **close**_ , he thought with annoyance as he watched as the male timber wolf and his lovely lupine lady made their way to the dance floor. His nostril's flaring for a moment, the frown on the polar bear's muzzle stretched out and deepened as he caught the unmistakable scent of marijuana. It was was prevalent in the air as it originated from the man that had splattered some booze on the coat of his three-thousand dollar–Capitalist denomination mind you–three-piece Giorgio Armani suit.

His fists clenching, the angered ursine in black suit turned about to follow the white wolf, intent to fulfill his role as bouncer by administering an abject lesson of why you were supposed to follow house rules–or at the very least not piss off the help–when he was stopped in his tracks by a paw firmly grasping his shoulder. Turning his head to see who was restraining him, the young mafiya Bratok relaxed a little as he realized the other mammal in a black suit was his older brother. "Donovan," he greeted his sibling and future head of the Kholodno family politely. "What brings you here tonight?" After all, he hadn't seen his brother's name on the shift schedule and his fellow ursine wasn't one to waste his time at the Ice Imperatritsa. As useful as their father's club was for giving them an outlet to launder money, neither of the siblings had a taste for the music let alone the clientele it attracted.

The other polar bear, another tall individual with was finely dressed in a similar fashion to his younger sibling with the exception of a black tie in contrast to his brother's black, gently massaged the other ursine's shoulder. He took a moment to lead him towards the back entrance and away from the dance floor. As they headed into the service area and the noise a dull thrumming instead of overwhelming, he told him, "What brings me here Kozy, is _you_ ," he said in all seriousness. At the confused look on the slightly shorter polar bear's face, the polar predator chuckled. "I'm serious. Father told us to cancel all plans for tonight and head out with Tomas. I've already talked to Dzhordzh and let him know to call in someone else." He released his sibling's shoulder and gave him a firm pat on the back. "Now come on, time's wasting!"

That caught Kozlov completely off-guard. "But father is such a stickler for us sticking to our jobs..." he murmured. And that went for both on and off the books! Whether working for the family or **the family** , one was expected to do what was expected of them if not more or else they would receive punishment. "What's going on? Why would he call me off guard duty as a bouncer... for..." he trailed off, frowning as his brother grasped the lapels of his jacket and stretched them out, making sure they were presentable. "Donovan... what are you doing?"

The older polar bear deflected the inquiries by giving commands. "Stretch out those arms and shake your cuffs," he said in a firm, authoritative tone. "We need to make sure you're presentable."

Raising his left eyebrow in curiosity, the youngest son of Boss Entoni was confused about the need for himself to be presentable but he did as he was told. Bringing both his arms before him, the ursine gave them a little hake, making sure the sleeves were smooth and the gold cufflinks shining. "Like this?"

Looking his sibling over for a moment, the slightly taller polar bear smiled and nodded his head. "Yes. You look good. You're going to want to be presentable for this," he said as he started to walk down the back hallway.

Now the right eyebrow rose up to meet the left as the twenty-two-year-old member of the Russkaya mafiya watched as his brother made his way over to the emergency exit, the audible sound of rain coming from outside. Although he was feeling more than a little put-off by the secrecy of this, the polar bear knew he couldn't refuse. Kozlov was a Kholodno by birth, by blood, and by loyalty. This was the true family business and he would not shame his father, his Pakhan, by showing hesitance now. So taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, the carnivore straightened his shoulders and walked over to where his brother was holding open the door to the back exit. "Thanks," he told his sibling.

"Don't thank me yet," Donovan said with a smirk as he exited behind his younger brother, making sure the door shut firmly behind them. Out in the back parking lot, they were greeted to the sight of a black limousine waiting for them; Tomas standing beside the back doors with an umbrella. He was an older polar bear who stood a head shorter than either of the brothers. He was dressed in a white suit with black turtleneck and while professional enough in appearance, the deep, jagged facial scar that ran down the left side of his face made it obvious this mammal wasn't the sort who held a nine-to-five in an upscale business. "You left the motor running?"

Grunting in response, the man nodded his head as he reached his paw out and grasped the handle of the limousine. Pulling it, he opened the door for the pair, motioning them to hop in as the frosty mist of the vehicle's air-conditioning seeped out into the open air. "Come on, boys. Time is wasting. The Pak—your father doesn't want to be kept waiting," he said, quickly corrected himself. His eyes shifted left and right, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. It wouldn't do to accidentally implicate Boss Entoni of being a criminal.

Nodding his head, the older of the two Kholodno sons gave his brother a push. "You first, Kozy," he said with a smirk as his brother took a stumble forward. When the slightly shorter ursine gave him a glare, Donovan gave him a wide smile, baring his sharp teeth. "That's not a request, brother," he told him rather meaningfully. "Besides, I'm getting soaked standing out here in the rain! Move your tail!"

Huffing in a show of annoyance to hide the worry he could feel travelling up and down his back, Kozlov had to admit it. If he hadn't been on edge before, he sure as hell was **now**! Still, the Arctic animal did as his older sibling told him to, and ducked his head to enter the vehicle to get out of the rain. Climbing into the leather back seat of the limousine's passenger area, he took a moment to settle himself within the cushioning before his brother joined him; Tomas slamming the door shut behind them. Waiting a moment for his sibling to get settled as well, he asked his fellow Bratok, "Now that we're in private, would you please tell me what's going on?"

Donovan chose to ignore is little brother for a bit more. Instead, he waited for the limo to begin moving before he reached for the drink cabinet in the back and pulled free a bottle of vodka and a pair of shot glasses. Using his thumb claw of his right hand to pierce to metal cap, he poured the contents into the two glass cylinders held tightly in his left paw. Smirking, he held up his massive mitt to his brother. "Here's to us, Kozy. We drink. For both luck and warmth."

Frowning a bit as his sibling continued to evade the question, the polar bear shook his head in irritation before he took one of the drinks. He threw back his drink in one go just as Donovan dropped his own to the floor and began drinking direction from the bottle. The younger brother looked down at the now chipped glass and glared. _Ugh. Always so_ _ **wasteful**_ , he thought with annoyance as he raised his head to see his brother now glaring at _him_. Realizing his brother too notice and offense the look of annoyance on his face–and knowing he sure as hell would **never** get away with criticizing the mammal who was next in line to become the family's acting Pakhan–Kozlov explained it away with the comment of, "Some of us might have wanted another drink, Donny..." 

That caused Donovan to blink his blue eyes once, twice... before he belted out with roaring laughter. "Sorry, little bro!" He chimed merrily, the anger that had started to simmer gone in a flash. "I'm used to drinking with animals who can't hold their liquor! Usually one is enough for them, leaving it up to me to finish it off." He reached his left paw out, clasping it on his brother's right shoulder before shaking him in a good-natured fashion. "Don't worry! I might not be able to give away the secret yet but I promise you: where we're going, there will be plenty to drink!"

That bit of genuine levity from his brother allowed the now off-duty bouncer to relax, even if only a little. He didn't think he would be in trouble after the huge score he had managed for the family but one could never be too careful in their line of business. One mistake could be a death sentence. So with his worries put to rest, the white-furred ursine did what he could to avoid the ride. Each passing minute making the Arctic animal wonder where they were going as every time he looked out through the tinted window of the limousine as raindrops pelted across its surface and left streaks of water that slid down along the surface, he would see as or realize they had passed one of their usual haunts. Wherever they were going, it wasn't anywhere that the youngest son of the head of the Kholodno Bratva could think of off the top of his head.

He just hoped they got there soon! What **wasn't** helping with the man's nerves was the constant presence of sirens around them, the noise synonymous with the cops playing on the polar bear's paranoia. He'd never heard so many of them go off at once in his life! Cop cars, fire trucks, and ambulances all sounding out at various distances; from off in the horizon to the very vehicles themselves as they passed by the limo on the road. The Arctic ursine had no clue what was going on but each time those lights shined somewhere in his field of vision or the sound managed to penetrate his vehicle, the off-duty bouncer couldn't help but give off an involuntary shiver, almost expecting them to stop Tomas' stretch limo. One thing Kozy knew about living in Russia that it was a tough life... but he certainly never thought it would be bad enough to bring the police out in full force.

Eventually, the vehicle started to slow when they neared a series of gates comprised of painted red and green bricks with iron bar. It was only then Kozlov realized their destination was that of St. Andrew's Cathedral. The church was a beautiful if not imposing place or worship of the Russian Orthodox faith, the structure a solid red brick instead of the traditional whitestone the local places of worship were known for. A marvel of architecture and craftsmanship that took its construction cues more from the stance of the English Tudor Gothic style than the more commonplace Byzantine Reformation due to its origins as an Anglican church. Meaning the magnificent structure was more reminiscent of castle-type construction from the Western Dark Ages than that of Eastern Russia's perchance for onion-domed towers. Without the presence of the golden decorations that were synonymous with Russian culture, the roof was instead covered with stone tiles and topped with a silver-colored metal cross.

The vehicle made its way through barred gates before it continued its way towards the church; the younger of the two siblings looking over his shoulder and through the back window to catch sight of two ursine individuals closing those wrought-iron doors behind them. In here moments, the limo came up to line up the left side of the vehicle with the church's curbside. The window that was within the partition between the passenger area and the driver's seats slid down, Tomas calling out, "We've arrived. Disembark now." The tone was curter with them than it had been before, making it obvious that whatever was going on, his part in it was done.

Nodding his head, Donovan gave his brother a nudge with the palm of his paw. "Well, you heard the man, Kozy! Get a move on, already!" He then dropped the empty bottle onto the floor, letting it join the chipped shot glass. "It's time to get this show on the road!" He smirked. "Or off the road and into someplace dry as the case may be," he joked.

Grunting as he was pushed roughly, the younger sibling nodded his head and did as told. Reaching out for the interior door handle on his side of the limousine, the ursine male pulled on the trigger to unlatch the lock before pushing it open with his arm. Stepping out into the rain, the man couldn't help but gaze up at the immense building. The polar predator had never been to the church when there wasn't a service but he had to admit, for a place of holy worship... it was very unnerving in the dark. The lack of the mammal congregation made it feel incredibly isolated, despite the cathedral being right in downtown Moscow.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the shout of, "Move it, Kozy!" Realizing his brother needed him to get out of the way, the mammal stepped aside a bit, allowing the slightly taller white-pelted carnivore to step out of the back. Straightening his black tie as he did so, the eldest Kholodno son chuckled as he murmured, "This is going to be good. If it weren't for the storm, this would be a perfect night for this." With a shove of his shoulder to move his sibling out of the way even more, he walked past his younger brother and made his way up the stone steps of the church. "Move your tail; they're waiting for us!"

Hoping what Donny said was true–even if he was being his usual selfish asshole self about it–the finely-dressed polar bear began to climb the steps, following his older brother as Tomas took off, leaving them there. Heading up the polished rock stairs, the pair made their way to the arched entrance; a pair of thick wooden doors that were shaped to the arch serving as a barrier from the outside. Above this main entryway, an exquisite stained-glass rose window imported from Italy. Enclosing this remarkable entryway were twin columns on either side that rise above the roof they surround with attached brick pier-adorned alcoves with crosses set within at each corner.

Each brother grasped a door and pulled open. They were immediately greeted to the priest as he stood by the font of the church that was used for baptisms and consecrations. The elderly Siberian tiger was decked out in his traditional sticharion; the robe and cap vestment of the Russian-Orthodox priest that was adorned with high quality galloons and embroidered with crosses in various styles from around the world in golden thread. Looking up at the two taller carnivores, the aged striped feline smiled and greeted, "Evening, boys."

The brothers stepped inside before closing the doors behind them. Turning to their religious elder, the pair bowed their heads in reverence to him. He might not have been an ursine but he was a fellow predator. "Good evening, Father Vseproshcheniye," the two greeted respectfully; Kozlov now rather curious as to why the priest was involved.

Smiling, the striped wildcat nodded his head, causing his length beard to bounce a bit before it settled against his chest atop the cranberry-colored vestments. He raised his right paw out, beckoning for them to come closer. When they did, the feline priest dipped the fingertips of his left paw into the bowl of the font before flicking the droplets of water at them as he made the sign of the cross in mid-air. "Water of life, bless and refresh us."

"Water of life, bless and refresh us," the two sons of Entoni Kholodno repeated. 

The Orthodox priest then turned to the marble font. He dipped his right hand into the pool of holy water before he turned about to face the pair of polar bears once more. He then reached up with his right thumb, pressing it against Donovan's forehead. "Restore us to life with Lord Cheeses," he said before doing the same to Kozlov, making sure to press the holy water firmly against the front of his scalp.

"Restore us to life with Lord Cheeses," the pair of ursine men repeated as they both made a sign of the cross over themselves.

Nodding his head, the older mammal said, "God bless you boys. You may head on in to see the others but please remember. If you need me, I will be in the rectory." He smiled and gave the two a nod of his head as he took off towards the left, making his way further into the church grounds while leaving the two to make their way into the main cathedral unimpeded.

Watching the older tiger make his way until he was out of view, Kozlov released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. _This is it_ , the younger of the brothers thought as he took a moment to straighten out his white tie, using the action to buy some time to steel himself so he didn't appear as nervous as he felt. Whatever was to happen, this was it. So taking a deep breath, he walked in step with his brother, the two walking side-by-side as they made their way into the church proper and down the aisle, passing pews where some members of the Brigadiers sat towards the Altar where their father stood with two of his men.

Turning from the pair of polar bears he was chatting with Entoni turned to face the new arrivals. He was a massive predator, standing even taller than his boys who themselves were prime examples of imposing Arctic ursine men. Forgoing his usual jewelry, the elder polar bear was dressed in a charcoal gray suit and a white shite and tie combination much like his youngest son although now with his bare paws, one could see the crown tattoo around his left ring finger that marked him as the boss of the Kholodno Bratva. Smiling wide at the sight of his boys, the proud father spread his arms out to his sides as he stepped down the steps that were aligned with the raised platform the altar was atop of. "Ah! There they are! The men of the hour!" He said in a surprisingly cheerful fashion as he closed the distance between him and his sons. Embracing them both in either arm, he queried, "So are my boys ready to become made mammals?"

Although he was surprised, the youngest of the related bears managed to return the hug. "Made? Do you mean to tell me..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it aloud.

Letting off a hearty laugh, the older, larger, and portlier polar bear replied, "That's right boys! You two have been working hard to earn your marks all these years! With that last successful job you two did? I'm proud to say tonight is the night!" As he said that, numerous members of the Bratva began to clap their hands while the rest began to move about the cathedral, turning off the lights while lighting a few candles. Releasing his sons, he clapped his hands on either of their shoulders as he told them, "Come on, my sons! Let's get started!"

When his father released him and his brother, Kozlov waited for his father to start walking towards the back of the church before he made his way up to the altar alongside his brother; the elder brother giving him a thumbs-up. As their father and Pakhan made his way behind the rites table covered in sacred cloth, Kozy watched as the older mammal waited long enough for them to make their way to the front of it before motioning them to stop. As the younger polar bear stood there, his eyes wandered over what was atop the table, from the candles to the prayer cards, the gold signet rings, the stiletto knife, and of course, the bottles of wine.

Gazing over the church to make sure everyone had a chance to settle down in their seats, Entoni turned his attention to the pair before him. He took a deep breath before speaking out, "All right. You all know why we're here?" There was a murmuring from the gathered members of the Bratva's Avtoritet. As his sons nodded their heads in understanding, the Boss of this particular brotherhood of the Russkaya mafiya continued, "If either of you has any reservations about this, now is the time to say so. I won't think any less of you." His eyebrows furrowed menacingly. "Because once you enter into this family, there is **no** getting out."

Both Kozlov and Donovan stood there, the paws in front of them and folded over their abdomens in a relaxed stance. Neither mammal flinched at the menace to their father's words. He was patriarch in both blood and gang and they would follow him anywhere.

Nodding his head as his children's silence, the Pakhan continued, "This family comes before everything else. **Everything**." His eyes darted back and forth between both of his adult sons. "It will come before your wives, any children you will one day have, and even me, your father. This is a matter of honor. And Gouda forbid if you get sick or something happens and you can't earn, we'll take care of you because that's part of being in the brotherhood."

Giving his boys a moment to digest that, the middle-aged polar bear continued, "If you have a problem, you bring it to one of your fellow Avtoritet or directly to me. I may be your Boss first and foremost but I am still your father. It doesn't matter if this problem is an internal one or with someone outside the brotherhood. Bring it to us: we will solve it. Because above all else, _you stay within the_ _ **family**_ ," he said heatedly, the tone of his voice brooking no argument that there were no secrets from each other. They did everything as one or not at all. 

"I understand father," Donovan stated firmly without hesitation.

Nodding his head, Kozlov agreed, "We stay within the family.

Smiling as he felt a swell of pride, Entoni nodded his head in satisfaction at their responses. "All right then. Now both of you, give me your left paws," the head of the Kholodno Bratva said in all seriousness as he picked up the stiletto in his right hand and slowly drew the blade over the flames of one of the candles. He then reached forward; his left paw gently cupping his eldest son's upturned hand before gently stabbing the tip of the thin knife into the man's palm and eliciting a hiss of pain from him. He then returned the stiletto to the knife of the candle to his right once more before doing the same with Kozlov. The Kholodno Patriarch then carefully placed the knife down atop the altar as he merely watched, allowing his sons a moment to pool a bit of their blood within in their upturned palms. "Cup your hands together. Make sure to get enough in there."

Looking down at his slowly bleeding palm for a moment as it slowly turned the white fur of his palms crimson, Kozlov couldn't help but let his gaze wander back and forth to keep his mind on anything but the blood. His stare travelled over to his father, to his confident brother, and to the pair of stain-glass windows on the walls of the cathedral closest to him that each conveyed a scene from the Stations of the Cross as heavy raindrops pelted against them...

But it was a bolt of lightning that caught the polar bear's attention... or to be more precise, what it illuminated. His eyebrows raised up as the flash of light from outside shone an outline across the surface of the glass. The shape was that of some kind of bird, possibly an owl.

A **big** owl...

"Ahem," Kozlov's father coughed out throatily to get his youngest son's attention. When he had both of his boys' attention on him, the head of the Kholodno Bratva held up a pair of prayer cards. The image on the cards was that of an old housecat with long white fur and beard in red tunic and brown sandals, the feline holding the Gospel book in his right hand while his left held onto a length of fishing net that draped around his feet. "This is Andrew the Apostle, Patron Saint of not only the working class but also our family." He placed both cards to the candle, allowing their corners to catch fire. "As these cards burn, so may your souls burn in hell if you betray your family," he proclaimed as he carefully dropped one card into the bloody palms of his eldest son, before then placing the other prayer card into the bleeding paws of his youngest. "Let them burn boys. Let them burn."

When they were practically holding rising flames in their paws as the cards were engulfed entirely and began to burn the blood, Entoni nodded his head. "Now, rub your hands together. Mix those ashes of the saint into your hands, your blood... and repeat after me."

Both polar bears did as their father told them, yet now Kozlov was distracted. His eyes continuously darting to his left towards the stained-glass window of Cheeses rising into heaven, and the giant bird he would have sworn was just outside of it... although it seemed to have been replaced with a pair of golden lights that shone through the holy imagery.

Frowning slightly as his youngest child continued to dart his eyes away from him, the elder ursine continued in a commanding tone to force the boy's attention back to what was truly important. "May I burn in hell..."

"May I burn in hell," Donovan stated firmly as he rubbed his hands.

Startled as he heard that, the younger Kholodno son also repeated, "May I burn in hell."

Seeing he had both sons paying attention once more, the portly polar bear then stated, "If I betray my brothers."

"If I betray my brothers," the siblings said as one. Kozlov was trying his best to keep his focus on his father, but another flash of light caused his eyes to turn towards the window once more... showing that yes the outline of the owl was still there and that the twin golden lights were aligned perfectly with the avian's eyes.

Smiling, the middle-aged Arctic anima brought both his hands up. "Congratulations, my sons. Welcome to your family." He began to clap for them in congratulations... an action that was soon repeated by other members of the Kholodno Bratva, the men cheering on the Boss's sons. Coming around the altar, the polar bear hugged his eldest son. "Oh, Donovan... now that you're a member of the Avtoritet, you will soon captain your own gangs of Bratok."

Hugging his father back, the eldest son assured his father, "I won't let you down my father. My Boss." Smirking, he couldn't help but get a dig at his brother. "You can rest easy. You need depend on _only me_."

Kozlov said nothing but merely clapped as their father hugged his eldest son, the favorite. It was no surprise that his ego would swell with the promotion. He just hadn't thought Donny would let it go to his head before he actually accomplished anything as one of the newest Brigadiers of the brotherhood. _Not that he would have gotten this promotion without me. I did all the wheeling and dealing to smuggle those gems into Russia. He only needed to find buyers_ , the younger sibling thought with annoyance.

However, any spite he could have felt for his family was quickly snuffed out as the stained glass window he'd been staring at often during the ceremony exploded inward with an incredible show of force. The powerful winds that blew through the destroyed window-frame not only sent shards of colored glass flying everywhere but snuffed out all the candles as well...

Not that the place church was left in the dark. Twin lights shone about the room from the eyes of a giant owl as it sat within the open window frame, using the bottom of the broken metal frame as a perch; talons moving left and right to break off whatever pieces of stained glass remained to give it a smooth surface for its feet. The bird's head moved back and forth, eyebrows furrowed in a glare as it gazed out over the cathedral, taking in the sight of those gathered, as if sizing up the numerous ursine mobsters before deigning them as beneath its notice.

As the eyes of the much, **much** larger animal cast illumination upon the altar and the trio of polar bears gathered by it, the boss of the Kholodno mafiya pushed his sons away from him and pointed with the giant-sized avian. "What are you waiting for, an invitation!?" He shouted out into the cathedral as he outstretched hand came back to his chest, the right paw delving into his interior jacket pocketing. Pulling free and unfolding a Baikal MP-153–a 12 gauge gas-operated semi-automatic shotgun that was more akin to a hand-canon in the paw of a mammal much larger than it was designed for–with a flick of his wrist, the Pakhan took aim roared out the command, "SHOOT THAT DAMN BIRD!"

When he pulled the trigger and fired the first shot and the red plastic casing was expulsed from the side slit, it became a free-for-all. Most of the carnivore criminals gathered pulled forth either TT-33 pistols or their Type 54 Chinese variants from their jacket or pants pockets before taking aim and pulling the trigger again and again while the two Arctic mammals that had been standing guard by the entrance proper rushed towards the party crasher with their AKS-74U carbine rifles held high. As they closed the distance with their target, the pair of polar predators began to unload their clips at the bright-eyed interloper with their Bulgarian reproductions of the classic AK-47, raining 5.45×39mm bullets at it along with the other members of the brotherhood...

Only to cause sparks from ricocheting bullets and pellets as it turned out the beast was a creation of metal instead of flesh. As the rate of fire began to lesson as a number of the Bratva began to reload, one of the massive metal eyebrows raised, making the machine's left eye fully so it could shine light across even more of the cathedral, the beak flexible enough to curl back in a silent snarl. It stared down at the leader of the group as he feverishly tried to reload shells into the barrel before it craned further into the church and spread out its mighty wings. The air pressure from one solid flap caused every wooden cross in the building to break apart and smolder if not burst into flame outright, the metal ones to crumple up into twisted lumps, and the stained glass windows still in place to violently crack. It launched itself from the windowsill before coming down on the altar with its massive frame, breaking the holy stone table.

Entoni and Donovan stepped back while they could from the huge avian machine as it stood atop the rubble of the consecrated table. Kozlov also did such but the placement of his foot hit the left of one of the steps rather than the top of the stair fully and ended up falling backwards and down to the congressional floor. He sat up quickly tilting to his left and sitting on that butt-cheek as he reached behind himself with his right paw for his own TT-33 while his elder brother sneered at the bird as he pulled forth a Makarov pistol in his right hand as he used his left to grip the top of the semi-automatic's casing to make sure the blowback function had a bullet primed in the barrel before he took aim at the menacing machine, covering his father while the older polar bear continued to reload his own firearm.

It then spoke in the coldest, most evil voice that Kozlov had ever heard. It was male, that much was certain, but the hollow metallic tone filled the Arctic mammal with a chill greater than taking a dive in Siberian waters during winter. "Come at me or go away, it matters not. Either way, I am here for those of Kholodno blood." The eyes shimmered with a red haze for a moment in a menacing fashion as a guttural breathing sound reverberated within the chest cavity.

Gritting his teeth at the direct threat, the middle-aged polar bear raised his semi-automatic shotgun again as he cried out, "FUCK YOU, BIRD!" He started firing his weapon once more as his men followed in suit. The gathered mammal mobsters kept unloading more clips and shells into the heavily armored frame that seemed to deflect the metal projectiles, intent to find a chink in the armor that they could exploit and destroy. The church was filled with the explosion echoing sound of weapon ignition and propulsion, the screeching of metal clashing as they collided with one another, and the splintering of wood as the ricocheting bullets went flying off the mechanical monstrosity and into the pews: the dented slugs posing a greater threat to those who fired them off than they did their intended target. 

The mechanical owl... was well and truly annoyed. It said nothing as metal paneling slid back along its shoulders, a square device rising up from the now exposed interior to where it stood perched up between its wings. Once firmly settled on the machine's back, the central portion of the mechanical block extended forward, turning the shape into a canon-like device. Once it was fully formed, a violet light started to shimmer at the opening of the weapon's muzzle, glowing brighter with each passing second as electricity crackled along the barrel's length.

His gaze widening in terror as his fur stood on end from the buildup of static that was filling the room, the Pakhan of the brotherhood shouted, "The eyes! Aim for its eyes!" He raised his hand and continued to fire off the last two shells he had in his as the two bears with AKS-74Us came up at either side of their leader before unloading a clip each at the where their boss commanded they fire upon.

The arcing electric energy began spinning around the length of the weapon faster and faster, the violet light at the center of the barrel glowing bright in turn. Finally the charge reached its peak and released in a series of energy blasts, the output of concentrated electrical impulses firing off from the barrel tip in rapid succession as if they homing rockets! The sparking blasts of purple light rained down all over the cathedral with no rhyme or reason, just targeting wherever they could and detonating! The after-shock from each blast exploding blew loose anything that wasn't nailed down; the force rocking the centuries-old building and causing the already cracked stained-glass windows to shatter outright, blowing their iridescent pieces of multi-colored material out into the bushes, sidewalk, and parking lot: everything that surrounded the St. Andrew's was awash in crystalline shards and smoldering cinders.

The interior was filled with a thick, billowing smoke as the blazing pews were set ablaze. It was a contrast of light and darkness, the fire casting a glow over the rippling form of the airborne haziness. But one thing that Kozlov could make out was the screaming... the pitched screams of terror of **agony**. Lowering his arms as the attack ended, the youngest son of the Kholodno boss looked around. His eyes widened as he saw his old man was flat on his face not too far from him. "Father!" He called out, as he pushed himself to a standing position, intent to run over to his downed patriarch.

The Arctic animal didn't manage a single step before a large set of talon stepped firmly down on the man, making his cry out in pain before those sharp digits enclosed around Entoni. The claws slowly upturned, allowing the mechanical fiend to gaze down at his prey, drinking in the sight of the small–in comparison to itself–polar bear. It began to chuckle, a horrid metallic sound that reverberated within the throat before it spoke, "Foolish, **foolish** mammal. Nothing can pierce my hide." And then to make its point, the robotic avian began to tighten its grasp.

The polar predator could only watch as those razor-sharp talons closed in on his father, the middle-aged mammal screaming in complete and utter suffering as the clawed digits slowly cut through flesh and fur before burrowing down into muscle and bone with the smoothness of a hot knife slicing through butter. The screamed turned into a choked gargling as Entoni began bleeding profusely from every orifice before going silent forever more. With his talons firmly closed, the remains of the Russkaya mafiya boss splattered onto the ground in a series of large chunks and bloody viscera.

Kozlov threw up.

Just as he finished letting loose his dinner, a mighty voice roared out, "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" The polar bear raised his head in time to see it was his older brother Donovan screaming as the man rose up from the some of the church's wreckage. The older ursine was enraged as he stood defiantly in his attire ruined, only pants with holes in the knees, scraps of cloth hanging from his wrists by the shirt cuffs, and a scraggly length of black tie remaining. Yet in his hands, he held one of the AKS-74U carbine rifles that he had salvaged from one of the Brigadiers and opened fire at the mechanical monstrosity with the ammunition that remained in the clip. " **DIE!** "

The giant owl didn't wait for the ammunition to run out as it merely leaned its body forward slightly, slamming its beak down on the eldest Kholodno son, the weight behind it pulverizing the polar bear into a messy state with such force that sent pieces flying off in every direction; a circular ring of blood extending out from the point of impact.

Kozlov could only gaze on in growing terror as the abomination straightened up once more and turned towards him, the creatures yellow eyes casting direct illumination upon him, light bright enough to actually cut through the smoke of the room and allowing the target of it to see far more than it could before. The destruction, the fire, the slick coating of darkened crimson covering the features made the carnivore swear he was staring down Lucifer. "What are you?" He barely managed to whisper out as stood within one of the holiest places in Russia as it became hell itself.

A guttural breathing noise sounded out once more before the avian automaton spoke once more, surprising the mammal as he really hadn't been expecting an answer. "I... am Clockwerk," the creation said, introducing itself. "And you and I have much to discuss, young Kholodno..."

"Discuss?" He asked as he took a step back from the beast. "Discuss!?" He cried out. "You killed them! My family! Our most trusted men! ALL OF THEM!" The ursine shouted as he pointed up at the bionic bird in accusation.

One it didn't bother to argue. "Of course. How else was I to make you the new head of the Kholodno Bratva if there were so many others ahead of you in the line of succession?" It queried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have need of you, Kozlov. You be of great use to me..." it said replied as it took a step forward, stepping over the remains of the polar bear's father.

As the mechanical menace began to close the distance, Kozlov continued to step back from it. "Use?" He whispered, before going stock still as the bird leaned over again, the mammal going stock still out of fear. Yet death didn't come. No, the giant owl put its face to his own, allowing the newly made mammal to see his reflection within the yellowed eyes of the massive beast.

"Yes. **Use** ," it stated firmly, the avian android's deep, hollow tone resounding within the walls of the destroyed church. "I am now the head of this Bratva but it will need someone to be the face of its leadership... you will be that face I put forward. Do we understand?"

Kozlov shivered, still looking into the light of those eyes. "You killed my family and now want me to be subservient!? Why would I do that!? Hell!" He snapped. "With so many of us dead, we're doomed! Our rivals will swoop in and kill us all!" He may have been terrified but the audacity of what this abomination proposed as insane. If he was going to die, the Arctic animal would prefer it be now on his terms. 

A deep, menacing chuckle shook the chest cavity of the mechanical owl. "There is no need, young Kholodno. I was very busy tonight... I paid visits to the Lyuberetskaya, the Orekhovskaya, even the Solntsevskaya Bratvas..." he listed them off one after another. "I left them in great shambles. Trust me, boy..." he said in a harsh tone that seemed to take great relish in what it was saying. "They won't be a threat to you: all their blood members are dead. In fact if you act fast, you might be able to completely snuff out what remains of their gangs the police didn't pick up yet."

The polar bear's jaw moved up and down silently for a moment, the white-pelted ursine unable to form words at the implications. With that boast, a lot of what the criminal carnivore had seen on the road that night made sense. This... _**thing**_... it had been picking the groups off one-by-one leaving the Russian authorities to clean up the mess. "Why?" He asked.

"Because, young Kholodno," Clockwerk stated firmly as it straightened itself up once more. "I **need** _**diamonds**_."

"What!?" Kozlov snapped, completely taken aback. "All this... all of this for **diamonds**!?" He cried out as he motioned to the destruction around him. "Everyone I cared about dead because you want riches!?"

"Not riches!" The emotionally heartless machine snapped. "Diamonds! You are not only the best jewel smuggler in your family but this nation!" He stated firmly, letting the polar bear know this was fact and not mere opinion. "It is only by this one skill that you developed that you above all else are allowed to keep your life!" A deep, metallic breath reverberated from within the avian's torso once more. "I have attained my life-long mission days ago and now it is time to go onto the next, to prove myself the most powerful force in the world. To do that, I need diamonds. Sizable diamonds with clarity, the purer the better. I don't care if you have to get them specially cut or spend to get them in large lots with other lesser jewels either. You **will** be dedicating your life to finding me all the best diamonds you can!"

The polar bear just stared, realizing how much danger he was in now. This wasn't a simple killing machine... it was _**insane**_! "What... what do you need so many diamonds for?"

The yellow gaze of the automated owl's yellow eyes slowly took on a red illumination. "You need not know! All you need to do is get me diamonds! I will expect monthly shipments. Take solace in knowing that while I will keep the best, you and your Bratva may keep whatever is useless to me." The crimson lighting took on a true blood red sheen. "But I will expect each tithing to have a considerable number of what I _**require**_! Do we have an accord, _Pakhan_?" He said the title in an almost mocking manner.

Gulping to get moisture to a dry throat, Kozlov asked, "And if I refuse?"

The corners of the metal beak managed to curl in a devious, dark smile. "Simple: You die and I simply fly off to another country to find another high-end gem dealer. You accept and not only will I still get what I want but your family becomes the most powerful mafyia in all of Russia. Really, it's in your best interest here to accept," the owl said matter-of-factly.

His shoulders sagging, the polar bear lowered his head, feeling nothing but shame; the burning of the church around him making the mammal realize he entering a deal with the devil and there would be no turning back. "I..." he took a deep breath before exhaling once more, trying to get the bitter taste of bile out of his mouth. "I accept... Clockwerk..." he said slowly, knowing that even with this destruction, he could at least try to keep on the traditions of the brotherhood... even if they were but mere vassals to a far greater menace.

"Splendid," the owl straightened up. "Just what I wanted to hear..." it said as it turned about; one eye turning red as it gazed the crimson illumination over the remains of the polar bear's parent–the bright line that went straight through the center reminding the mammal of a barcode scanner. The deep red glow seemed focused on the corpse's arm in particular for a few moments before the light of the optic went back to yellow, matching the other eye. Turning back to the much tinier animal, the devious avian told him, "Offer me your left hand, Boss Kholodno." Seeing the trepidation on the animal's expression, it firmly declared, " **Now**."

Eyes widening, at the darkening tone, the white-pelted ursine somberly nodded his head and brought his left paw. "Show me your palm," the owl commanded of him and the polar bear complied and upturned his hand, showing the reddened fur and the wound that hadn't had a chance to heal. His eyes went wide as he watched Clockwerk raise its right talon up, the binary-coded bird keeping balance on one clawed foot.

Kozlov screamed as one of the talons pierced into the wound and stayed there, wiggling about inside for a moment. While the stab of the stiletto had been uncomfortably painful, this was just **torturous**. A burning sensation traveled throughout his body as if going directly through his blood stream with an intensity that just increased with each passing moment. Falling to his knees, the polar bear grasped his right paw around his left wrist, his palm bleeding anew; the tear in his flesh oozing profusely.

"Just relax and let the magic do its job. It will be over shortly," the avian assured, the machine not at all perturbed by the suffering its power was putting the mammal through.

Tears were in the corners of Kozlov's eyes as he stared at his hand, the sensation of prickling heat intensifying within his hand in particular. Turning it over, his blinked his eyes a moment, trying to clear his blurry vision. As his eyes cleared, his was horrified to find he wasn't seeing things. The arteries and veins on the back of his hand had gone dark enough to see through hiss fur, his ring finger becoming dark enough that it looked as though it was going to fall off from frostbite! He would have begged to know what was going on but he could barely do anything but cry out in pain.

Fortunately for him, almost as intensely as it began the torture just as sharply subside. He stared at the darkness within his hand seem to be coalescing around the base of the ring finger, the bleeding slowly down and letting the polar bear realize just how drenched his jacket's sleeve was in his own blood. His breathing began to ease as he just stared with a curious gaze, watching as the black coloration seemed to flow beneath and over his skin, unable to comprehend what was going on until the dark essence finally solidified into the pattern of a crown tattoo in the spor where a ring would go. The same tattoo that his father had as the Bratva's boss...

The **exact** same tattoo...

Kozlov just stared down in awe and shock, turning his paw on his wrist back and forth to try and look around the finger and the image that now marked him, a possible branding of damnation. Looking up, he saw the android avian had already turned its back to him, making its way towards the closest open window. "Clockwerk!" He called out. "Where are you going?"

While the weight and power of the words remained menacing, the tone it spoke with was one of disinterest. "We are done here, Boss Kholodno." It took another step close, gazing up at the numerous broken windows that were now bare of the once holy imagery they once proudly displayed. Spreading its wings, it continued, "As you will need to get your affairs in order with the rest of your group, I will grant you a small reprieve to do so. However as my Derzhatel obschaka, I **will** expect my first tithing of diamonds at the end of this season and then you will provide a monthly tribute of gems on the last day of every month from then on. Don't worry about how to get them to me. When the time is right, _**I will find you**_."

With a mighty flap of its wings, Clockwerk flew off towards the wall; its wingspan breaking through the stone wall barriers that partitioned five of the windows, creating one massive hole in the side of St. Andrew's Church. The speed with which the menacing machine left drew out all the air from the room, freeing it of the smoke and putting out the flames as it drew the oxygen from Kozlov's lungs.

Falling to his hands and knees, the polar bear gasped for air that wasn't there for a moment until finally, he was able to breath once more, coughing and hacking as his lungs burned and spasmed within his chest. Left in the darkness once more in a cathedral that had become a warzone if not a tomb, the polar bear was left alone amongst the dead of his family.

He didn't know how long he stayed there like that. However, Kozlov was brought back to reality by the sensation of a hand on his shoulder, seemingly ignoring the fact the jacket had become soaked in blood. Turning his head to his left, the ursine saw that it was Father Vseproshcheniye.

The striped feline priest looked down at the young bear with immense sympathy. "Gouda have mercy on you, my son," he said simply. "May Gouda have mercy on your soul..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twirling the glass of vodka in his massive hand, Kozlov stared at it for the longest while. "From then on, I may have been the Bratva's Pakhan but I was a _slave_ to that monster. For the next decade, I spent my time and effort doing as Clockwerk commanded. I was able to run the family as I saw fit but I had to make certain that he had more than enough diamonds he considered _acceptable_..." he snorted in disgust. "It took me a solid year before I was able to figure out that such only meant the fiend wanted them either near-flawless to begin with or huge enough to where if the rocks had to be cut by a professional jeweler that they were still as large as my fist afterwards. Quality **and** quantity was a huge thing for the damn bird..."

Watching as the polar bear brought the tall glass to his lips and began drinking deeply of his vodka–the man having already gone through three bottles as his story went on–Nick continued to stare out at the retired mob boss as he mulled over what he'd been told. "Cheeses H-for-Hummus Crackers..." he murmured in shock. "You mean to tell me such a creature truly existed? That a machine of all things could be as sentient and cruel as that?"

The answer the owner of the Snow Palace gave was to lower his left hand and show the massive scar that bore into the center of his palm. The scarred tissue of the wound looked as though it had been made by something thicker if not more wicked than a sword let alone a knife!

Gulping nervously, the male red fox nodded his head, finding it difficult to accept but not about to call out the polar bear as exaggerating. "What kind of monster was this Clockwerk?"

"An ancient one," Carmelita spoke up, her eyes narrowed as she had a serious expression on her face. At the look her fellow fax gave her, she calmly explained, "Trust me on this one, Wilde. I ended up having to deal with that bastard and during my..." she trailed off, considering her words. Taking a breath she then continued, "During my _investigation_... I found evidence that the owl dates back as far as the Ice Age, circa Ten-Thousand B.C."

Poor Nick's jaw dropped upon hearing that. "You mean to tell me the **thing** that screwed over Kozlov was twelve- _ **thousand**_ -years-old!?" He cried out, trying to comprehend just how much could have been experienced in that time frame.

Her navy blue eyebrows furrowing as she focused on her fellow fox, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head in affirmation. "At the very least," she began firmly. "And even then I'm willing to bet that he was already ancient when the world was new." Granted, the vulpine woman had such an opinion because she had personally seen Clockwerk as a machine during that era thanks to Bentley's time machine but that wasn't exactly the sort of thing one talked about in mixed company... particularly former criminals who might want to use said device for nefarious ends if they believed her or simply try to have her committed to an insane asylum if they didn't.

She never could get Chief Barkley to believe her report about time travel and that mammal would trust her with his life!

"HOW!?" The pawpsicle hustler cried out in shock. As Carmelita stared at him curiously with that outburst, the man had the decency to blush. "Look..." he began once again, this time in a much calmer fashion. "I mean, I know you both are being honest with me." Mostly because he trusted Officer Fox to be upfront with him and he wasn't stupid enough to say otherwise to Mr. Cold's face. "But that seems too incredible to be true! A twelve-thousand-year-old cyborg owl? I mean, think about it! How could it have managed to stay alive for so long!?"

Her muzzle pulling back in a frown, the Latina vulpine sighed before telling her friend, "I remember what Clockwerk said during our fight at the Krack-Karov volcano..." she replied in a rather somber fashion. "He said that revenge was the prime ingredient in the so-called, 'fountain of youth'. The monster admitting that he kept himself alive for millennia on a steady diet of jealousy and hatred."

"Either that or he found a mystical wishing dragon," Klozlov muttered with a smirk, trying to add some mirth to the situation as he dropped what he was certain was a witty pop culture reference to the Japanese cartoon about the Super Simians. "Needless to say, I have seen many crazy things. Nothing would surprise me at this point."

It turned out one of the pair of vulpine mammals got the joke. "I hope not because I don't want to deal with space slugs," Carmelita replied, getting a laugh from the others. It wasn't like she was all work when back when she was in training. Besides that, the female red fox needed _something_ to watch in her down time after all...

Even if it **was** something that Sly had suggested she get back into. Although he never told her at the time, the anime surrounding the Super Simians was apparently something Murray had turned the raccoon onto.

Slowly nodding his head, the male vulpine looked up at the polar predator sitting behind the desk as he queried, "So... your hand also still has..." he trailed off, not sure if it was too intrusive.

Setting down his drinking glass, the polar bear nodded his head. Setting down his glass, the mammal's right hand came over his left, clasping digits onto and taking hold a gold signet ring that adorned his left paw. Removing it, he showed off the crown tattoo that remained after all this time. "Most mammals scoff at the notion of magic in this modern world ruled by science and reason. But that night, I knew for certain that there was more beyond heaven and earth than could be dreamt of by any animal's philosophies."

Nodding her head in agreement, Carmelita replied, "Tell me about it. I used to be a pretty by-the-book Interpol agent until I kept coming across things that taught me otherwise. Immortal animatronic owls, feral chicken zombies, werewolves carved from stone, dark magic, angry Aboriginal spirits, Chinese vampires, summoned mystical dragons... the kind that **do not** grant wishes..." she grit her teeth in aggravation. "And far more than I care to remember," she admitted with a hint of bitterness.

His head turned towards his fellow vixen as she prattled on about magical happenings in the world, Nick blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Seriously?" He chirruped.

Snorting in annoyance, Carmelita firmly told him, "Look up, 'Giant Fox', 'Mask of Dark Earth', and/or 'Mysteries of the Australian Outback' on a Zoogle Search. That should be enough of an answer."

Pouring himself another drink, the owner of the Snow Palace raised an eyebrow. "Or," Kozlov interjected. "You can use Zoogle to check into what our governments have as a last resort in case of a giant alien invasion." The polar bear shook his head. "You know all those giant monuments around the world?"

The cryptic nature of the ursine's comment made the crimson-pelted canid raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "...Yeah..?" Nick asked slowly. "What about them?"

"Giant robots," the polar bear stated firmly. As the two smaller predators stared up at him in disbelief, he added, "Yes. Even the famous Mount Rushmore; it's a combiner."

The male red fox sat before the retired crime boss's desk for a moment. "...I would suggest that you're pulling my tail but something tells me that you're right," Nick murmured quietly. Although it _would_ explain why so many countries were in debt.

Although now he kind of wanted to see the Lady Liberty punch out a UFO with a swipe of her torch...

"I've never heard anything about giant robots," the vixen admitted. _Well, ones that were made from monuments, anyway_ , she mentally amended. "But the point I'm making is, that even as mundane as things may seem in everyday life, there is far more beyond this world's scope than the norm." She shook her head. "Honestly... if it weren't for the blatant specism and government corruption, I would say Zootopia could be a rather nice place to live."

"It is," the ursine entrepreneur supplied. "Of course, it's particularly nice if you have the money. It's why my Bratva chose to come here once you destroyed Clockwerk. We knew once word got out about the destruction of the brotherhood's true Pakhan and the reason why he wanted so many diamonds in the first place, that old rivalries would soon rekindle and they would come after us for vengeance."

Tilting his head in a curious fashion, the male tod couldn't help but query, "That is something I was curious about. Why _did_ the owl want so many diamonds in the first place?" After a moment, the canid con-mammal added, "Was it because the robo-bird wanted wealth that would last as long as it would?"

Shaking his head, the large predator let off a sigh. "Nyet, good Wilde. **He** needed all those diamonds to be part of a doomsday weapon," the Arctic ursine replied in all seriousness. As the male vulpine's green eyes went wide, the polar bear admitted, "I'm serious. I only found out in the last two years I spent working for the freak when he started requesting specific sizes and cuts. The fiend was using them to channel the thermal energies of the Krack-Karov volcano to the world's satellite network via a massive ray gun. It would have been an incredibly powerful weapon of infinite ammunition and range. No one would have been safe..." he trailed off somberly as he brought his glass to his lips.

The vulpine nervously watched the Arctic animal chug his vodka. "...Well, at least we would have died with a good tan?" Nick tried to joke, having a hard time imagining what kind of horror that type of weapon could bring to the world.

Letting off a grunt of agreement as he placed his now empty glass down, the white-pelted ursine decked in a fine blue suit with numerous pieces of gold jewelry nodded his head. "Fortunately for everyone, it never came to be," he said as he clasped his paws together again, the black crown mark on his left ring finger more prominent against so much white fur. "It's thanks to Officer Fox here, that the beast was defeated and his weapon put out of commission for good; the infernal machine turned into so much slag within the molten rock of the volcano."

His emerald eyes gazing over to the newspaper once more, Nicholas couldn't help bit whistle. "Damn, Carm... you truly are awesome." He reached his right paw out and took hold of the periodical. Bringing the printed paper close to his face, the male red fox looked over the photograph on the front page with interest. "Seriously: why hasn't the media been sharing news like this about you with Zootopia!?"

The woman pursed her lips as she considered that inquiry. "There's a saying by an author I once read," Carmelita closed her eyes as she thought back to that statement. "That truth is stranger than fiction, for fiction has to make sense but the truth doesn't." She then looked at him with one eye open. "You tell me how many animals would be willing to believe stuff like that. Most mammals jokingly state that the government is corrupt but until they see how badly corrupt, they won't truly believe it."

Snorting in disgust, all the male fox could murmur was, "Believe me... I know how corrupt some of those bastards are..." he placed the newspaper back atop the owner of the Snow Palace's desk. "Still, at the very least they should be talking about you took down one of the most dangerous criminals of all time!"

"Clockwerk was less criminal and more of a megalomaniacal monster," the polar bear replied as he motioned for one of his men to bring over another bottle. Taking it after the guard pulled the top off for him, Tundratown's Mr. Cold began to pour himself another drink. "A monster that sought to destroy all others and take the world for himself. I followed through with his orders simply because it was a choice of either living as long as possible or dying early at the talons of that fiend." Picking up his glass he then downed his fourteenth vodka of the night.

Although the tundra mammal was an admitted criminal in his youth back in Russia, the Hispanic vixen found she couldn't hold such against him. From the story he shared, she could understand that he had no real choice except, 'serve or die'. "And I take it besides wanting to get away from those who would take out their anger at Clockwerk on you, you chose to leave your homeland to start anew for Morris' sake?"

Placing his now empty glass on the table, the polar bear exhaled, allowing the burn of the throat to settle for a moment. He then nodded his head towards the vulpine woman as he began to refill it once more. "Dah. In what I felt would be the final years, I settled on finding whatever comforts I could in being the bookkeeper for that damn owl. I found my peace with Meri..." he couldn't help but smirk a little. "Never tell my son this, but she was an exotic dancer at one of the many, and I mean **many** clubs I ended up owning in a valiant effort to try and launder the funds we got from selling the diamonds the mechanical menace discarded as useless." His smirk became more of a soft smile, as if he were caught in a pleasant memory. "And after a year of dating, I discovered that she was expecting..." shaking his head, the ursine murmured, "At the time, such new broke my heart, knowing I would be bringing a life into this world before it had a chance to truly live."

Carmelita nodded her head in understanding at hearing that. He really did feel it was the end of the world and that he was having a child in such circumstances would be worrisome. "Honestly, there's nothing wrong with the woman you settled with either." So what if she was an exotic dancer? Even if the woman was a prostitute, it wasn't like that stuff was illegal in Russia or other parts of Europe, after all...

...Something the Latina vulpine had learned the **hard** way after she busted up more than a few gigolos, only to find out afterwards that their profession was indeed a legalized and taxed one. _I'm just lucky those I did bring down were carrying narcotics at the time_ , she couldn't help but mentally add in relief. She could have been in _big_ trouble for police brutality otherwise.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with! Unfortunately, there are certain connotations about the profession Stateside that I would rather not have tainting Morris' memories of his mother," the polar bear stated seriously. "As it was, once you saved us from Clockwerk, I organized the Bratva and the decision was unanimous: it was time to get out of the game. We sold all our real estate in Russia and transported all our frozen assets while using the money we had to set up operations here in the Zoonited States." He smirked. "We only happened to end up settling within the Tundratown District of the Zootopia City-State because they asked far, **far** less questions than the federal government did. The Zootopia officials only saw the money and were more than willing to make deals to get as much of it from us as they could."

A small if not sad chuckle reverberated in the white-pelted ursine male's throat. "Unfortunately, you can't outrun your past. We might have left Russia but we had a certain... shall we say, _reputation_ that followed us. Many of the locals were worried about what our presence would mean for them and their homes and so while we tried to go as legitimate as far as ex-cons can..." he shrugged his shoulders. "Besides the Snow Palace Resort and my diner in Tundratown proper, I do have Zootenial: a private loans office that specializes in aiding predators specifically. Sadly, old habits die hard and when mammals refuse to pay their debts, some of the boys get a little overzealous in taking retribution."

"Which is why I was _**quite**_ happy to get you guys off my back," the male red fox interjected in a rather joking fashion. Although let it be known that paying off former members of the Russian mafia for a loan in a timely manner was no joking matter. Nicholas P. Wilde happened to enjoy his kneecaps unbroken, thank you very much!

To that little comment, the buff polar bear nodded his head in agreement. "Quite," he murmured as he took a casual sip from his glass. "And thanks to you, our loan operations have been... shall we say... far more _lucrative_ than usual."

Needless to say, that little bit of gratitude caught the male vulpine by surprised. He had no idea just how he could have done something that was useful for the tundra carnivore outside of paying off the bit of interest he built up as well. "Me?" The canid con-mammal squeaked out in shock. "But all I did was pay you back!"

"Not that, you fool," was the large polar predator's rather curt response. "It was the fact that we were willing to loan out money to a fox to begin with resonated with a lot of our fellow carnivores. After all, if we are willing to work with foxes, we're willing to work with anyone," he explained. "From there, we were able to deal with more predators on a _personal_ level. Sure, some of the boys may need to be reminded that we don't go breaking legs anymore but the fact is it has become lucrative enough that we might just open an actual establishment to work out of rather than renting out a meat-locker as a place of business." He smirked. "That will show those bunny bastards at the Snow Bank how to **really** work with the locals if they have to deal with a little friendly competition"

Such a comment caught the navy blue-tressed vixen's immediately. So even though she felt it might be crossing the line, the Latina vulpine couldn't help but inquire, "So... you only have intention of trying to muscle in on the Velveteen family's monopoly than you do Mr. Big?"

The polar bear snorted. "Dah. The worst of all this? The shrew could do whatever he wants in Tundratown, I really don't care. My men and I are so firmly entrenched with the locals that there's only so much he'll ever get out of the District. What he does with what my people haven't managed or even given a fuck about is fine with me." He couldn't help but let off a throaty growl. "But the damn _vermin_ is a greedy piece of paranoid shit and will accept a peace on only one condition."

The female red fox frowned; it seemed that while the man was trying to distance himself from his past, the crime boss that came in from Little Rodentia wouldn't let things be. "What condition is that?" She queried, wondering if it could be used to help aid in an investigation if such ever came down to it while she was still in Zootopia.

The expression on the ursine's muzzle pulled back into a frown. "He wants me to be his underboss. He has lacks the imposing physical presence required to force his will onto others and so wants me as his public face..." the polar entrepreneur's upper-lip curled back in a snarl, showing off his sharp teeth. "I strong-armed into doing similar for Clockwerk for a decade! **A decade**! I spent the best years of my youth being a puppet for someone and I _**refuse**_ to do it again!" He shouted, causing both vulpines to jump slightly in their seats as he slammed his glass atop his desk hard enough to break it to pieces and the alcohol still it to splash about.

The woman just sat there, watching the much larger predator trembled with barely restrained rage. She understood the kind of effect that mechanical monster could have on animals. "I... I don't blame you," Carmelita said after a few minutes. "I would personally rather the crime bosses all end up behind bars but..." she trailed off, knowing that such wasn't going to happen any time soon.

The polar bear snorted. "Difficult to do when the public often trusts them more than they do their elected officials who they _know_ abuse their authority," Kozlov finished the sentiment for her as he held up his right hand, allowing one of the guards to come by and use a handkerchief to carefully dry it of the spilt liquor and clean it of the broken bits of glass. Once his fellow polar bear stepped back, the resort owner took hold of the bottle and took a drink from it directly.

Watching as the large predatory mammal chugged the remaining contents, the Latina vixen took a deep breath to keep her thoughts steady while her chocolate eyes darting over to Nicholas for a moment to make sure he was handling this sit-down with the former mafia boss. Seeing him nod his head at her, the woman took a deep breath and continued, "Still, I am glad to hear that you have held your ground against the active criminal's demands."

Lowering the now empty vodka bottle from his lips, the polar bear nodded his head as he stared at the smaller woman with is deep brown gaze. "No kidding. I don't care what he does to threaten me personally. I've lived a hard life and am willing to deal with any problems he might try to send my way..." the fire in his eyes dimmed a bit. "But not my Morris. After losing my wife two years ago to cancer, my son is the only immediate family I have left. If Mr. Big's thugs had successfully kidnapped him... I wouldn't have had a choice. I would be working for the damned rodent and he would be getting a piece of the Snow Palace if not all my businesses."

Pushing his seat back and standing up, Kozlov walked around his desk, coming to a stop beside the off-duty ZPD officer. "Whether intentional or not, you my dear Inspector Fox, have done me a great service once again. First you destroyed my tormentor and gave me the opportunity to flee the old country and now you allow me to keep the life I've built here for myself, my brothers-in-arms, and most importantly, my son."

Tilting her head back, the woman met the much larger predator's stare as he stood to her left. "No matter who it is, my first priority as a police officer is to protect people's livelihoods," she stated resolutely. "You might have a checkered past but your son is an innocent. I would have done the same for any other child if they were in that situation." She gazed over to her fellow red fox for a moment and smirked. "Not to mention Wilde here did give me a hand so he deserves some of the credit... even with those noodle-like girly arms of his."

Rolling his eyes, the male vulpine grumbled out in a petulant tone, "Oh hardy-har- **har**!" He pouted as his left ear twitched in irritation. "It's not my fault I never had much time for physical exercise! I started working at twelve-years-old to make ends meet! I didn't have time to play sports, exercise, or any of that crap while I was chasing the almighty dollar!" He stated in defense of his scrawny muscles.

"Still," Kozlov continued. "You have done far more for me personally than most who actually know or even work for me. The Bratva has owed you an Honor Debt for eight years now and you have further compounded interest by saving my son this night. Really, there's only one thing I can do to even make amends at this point..." he said as he brought his left hand up to the collar of his ice blue turtleneck and pulled it down. His fingers felt along some of the chains that rested on his neck until he pulled a thin gold link up. Using both hands to undo the clasp, he held the strand of gold jewelry in view of the woman in his right paw as his left reached over to his desk, for the signet ring that he had taken off earlier to reveal his crown tattoo.

He threaded the chain through the opening of the band not once but twice, clasping it today again to make it look like a dual-chain necklace. "Officer Fox, you are one of us," he said firmly as he brought it down over the head of the surprised vixen. Once he had it resting on her shoulders, he used one paw to pull the length of her navy blue tresses out from underneath to allow the length of precious metal to weigh down on her neck. "Even if not by blood, you are a member of the Kholodno. You are **family**."

The former mafia boss-turned-entrepreneur straightened up, allowing the implications of what he told the shocked canid to sink in. "That ring will give you full access to the resort and its amenities as well as open a lot of otherwise locked doors. Not just in Tundratown but all over Zootopia. The name of the Kholodno holds weight in this city and you will find this a useful tool... as is only proper as a symbol of your authority among us."

The female red fox's jaw moved up and down silently, unable to say anything in response. Slowly though, as the seconds ticked on, words slowly began to find their way to her tongue. "I... uh... I have no idea what to say..." she admitted. She could only imagine the massive fit her family would have if they found out their little Carmelita was being treated as the Patron Saint of the Russian mob!

Seeing the expression of worry that graced the Latina vixen's face, the larger predator tried to offer her a warm smile; an impressive fear for a cold-oriented carnivore. "If it eases your conscious, I have been going legitimate. As I have stated, it's just been taking longer to go legit than I would care to admit," he said with a shrug. "So please, you need not worry. You can trust me, Inspector Fox. After all, in a prey-dominated society like Zootopia, we preds need to stick together. So if you have a problem, need advice, or tax guy... or simply need a dead body to disappear, you will always find you have a friend amongst us willing to lend a helping paw."

"...The fact you said you would help hide a dead body doesn't reassure me that you've gone completely legit," the Hispanic woman replied in a rather flat tone. _At least he didn't offer to kill anyone for me_ , she mentally added with a little relief, however minuet such ease was.

A chuckle reverberated in the larger polar predator's throat at the woman's response. "As I said, it takes much longer to go fully legitimate than I would care admit," he repeated meaningfully. "But I kid you not when I emphasize how important you have been to us, to me. My men and I would never, _ever_ do anything to jeopardize you or your reputation," he said meaningfully, letting her know he understood that it could be bad for her standing as a policewoman if it was openly known that the former members of the Kholodno Bratva would be at her beck and call if she needed it.

Although that eased her worry about things a bit more, the thought of the mafia being indebted to her left a bad taste in the vixen's mouth. Sure, she had dated a master thief but she wasn't a criminal in the slightest! What would other animals say if they caught wind of this? "I'm going to need some time to think about it..." she finally replied, the vulpine woman feeling weighed down by everything that she was being told. If anything, Carmelita needed to call Bentley for more information about this.

Nodding his head in sympathy for the woman's torn feelings, the polar bear replied, "That is understandable. Besides, you have had an _exhausting_ day. Being through two shoot-outs within the span of less than twenty-four hours will take their toll on even the most jaded of veteran soldiers or police. That you have remained mentally sharp during all of this is testament to your strength of character and will. It would be selfish of me to push any further at the moment." He clapped his hands together, "So please, rest us. Stay the night at the Snow Palace on us; free of charge. I'll comp anything you need or request of the establishment."

That further offer made the vixen wince. She knew the polar bear thought he owed her such and a great deal more but a part of her **hated** the thought of actually indulging in this questionable line of thought. Even if it was for a simple one night stay, such was a slippery slope to possibly more dangerous temptations down the road. "I do admit that I'm rather flattered by all of this, but—"

"She'll take it," Nick interjected, answering for her.

Turning to stare at her fellow fox with a look of bewilderment, the Hispanic vulpine could only shout, "WILDE!?"

Meeting the woman's chocolate gaze with his emerald eyes, the troublesome tod explained, "Trust me on this one, Carm. You are beat–and I mean tired, **not** defeated. I doubt we'll have an easy trip back to Happytown at the moment that won't take hours upon hours." He shook his head. "We'll all be much happier... and likely **safer** from the immediate retribution of Mr. Big," he stated pointedly. "If we just lay low for tonight and rest not only in comfort but _style_."

"Quite so," the owner of the Snow Palace replied. "Unless Mr. Big can somehow get the ZSA, Chinese, or Russian militaries to invade, he and his men can't get within ten feet of this place to cause trouble without being seriously outmanned and outgunned," he said his chest puffing out with pride, offering the smaller woman a sharp-toothed grin.

Although she had really wanted to just go home, drop into bed, and forget this day ever happened, the Latina policewoman could see both men's points. Those thugs of Mr. Big's had been very upset about her presence in Tundratown–especially after she brought two of them down during the confrontation. She held no doubt that they wouldn't be raring to get more men together and cause trouble. So taking a deep breath, the vulpine with navy blue tresses relented, "Okay. Since you're both so adamant, we'll stay for the night," she said hoping to appease both men. "But **only** for the night. We'll head out first thing tomorrow morning."

Clapping his paws and rubbing them together, the polar bear replied, "Excellent. I have just the room in mind. I'll have Vinsent escort you to the front desk and you two can get settled, try to relax a bit..." he smirked. "Or I can send just set you up and put Nick in closet somewhere."

The male vulpine immediately deflated. "Oh come on, Kozlov... a closet? Really?"

Raising an eyebrow as the hustler tried to give him that, 'sad puppy-eye' look, the ursine meaningfully replied, "Wilde, I've seen you sleep in a _desk drawer_. A closet would be a step up from your usual lifestyle."

Turning her head to the right to firmly look at the vulpine sitting in the chair next to her, the vixen couldn't help but repeat, "Sleep in a desk drawer?" What kind of ghetto life was Nick living anyway? She had gotten the idea it could be bad for foxes in Zootopia but that demeaning as well? Suddenly, that comment he made about having a problem with his living arrangements took on a whole darker connotation to the Hispanic beauty.

"Not like it was my idea to sleep in a desk drawer, but you know how hard it is for a fox to find even half-decent housing in this city," Nick said in response to the larger man's jab, unknowingly confirming the vixen's worries for him. No, instead his focus was the need to get them out of the bear's office. The retired Russkaya mafiya boss could drink like a fish! Sure in the beginning he was a happy drunk but after a certain point, that joviality could get a bite to it... any past that point, and Kozlov became a _mean_ drunk.

And the canid con-mammal did **not** want to give the large predator an excuse to keep drinking while they were present!

Looking over the vulpine male for a moment, the polar bear eventually shrugged his shoulders. "Dah, I suppose you are right..." he then looked up to one of the ursine men who had been posted as guard; one of his most trusted employees and the resort's head of security. "Vinsent!" He called out to his right paw mammal.

"Yes, Boss," the polar bear with a burn scar along his right eye responded as he straightened up where he stood, fixing his posture to appear more presentable. "How may I be of service, my Pakhan?"

Motioning to the two vulpines still sitting down before his desk, the boss requested, "Please. Take these two to the front desk. Let concierge know they are to give our esteemed guest _... and Wilde_..." he added, making certain to emphasize there was a considerable difference in level of importance. "The Luxury Presidential Suite. I'll comp any and all charges for anything they need while they stay the night."

"Certainly." He may not have understood why his boss would feel so emboldened to appease the vixen when she was obviously just doing her job at the time, but as long as it was just a room and room service, he was certain no one was going to raise complaint to the big man. After all, it likely couldn't get as expensive as the last time Kozlov told them to comp charges; specifically, when he got drunk and hit on the whole female staff after all.

The anniversary of his wife's death was always a rough time on the boss.

Motioning for the two to follow him, the white-pelted ursine in black suit and green turtleneck replied, "If you would please be so kind Miss Fox... and Wilde..." he added the canid con-mammal's name as an afterthought. "Come this way and follow me."

Nodding her head, the Latina policewoman carefully slid off the chair she had been settled in for the longest while. As she landed on the ground with her fellow red fox, the woman couldn't help but quiery, "Hey, Nick... any clue where Finnick and the other are in all this?"

Smirking, the male vulpine in Hawaiian shirt and striped tie couldn't help but reply, "If I know my heterosexual business partner for life - and I am darn certian I do - then he's probably in the spa being pampered by Cherry... which will probably lead to one thing or another later."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nnnngh!" Finnick groaned in delight, his orange-hazel eyes rolling up into the back of his head while his body shook in pleasure as he laid atop a massage table, his scalp laying into the headrest. "Ssssuuuuooooo guuuuud..." were the slightly intelligible noises that came together to portray his approval of his girlfriend's magic fingers.

Holding a bowl of fruit that she had been feeding the man as her youngest sibling went to work on the fennec, the eldest sister of the Arctic vixen trio leaned in to whisper to the middle child of the siblings, "I guess he needed that massage," Vanilla chirped as she watched Cherry ran her hands over his feet.

Nodding her head, the youngest of Kozlov's Angels replied, "My poor little guy! He has so many cramps in his feet that I'm surprised he can walk at all!" Oh just what was Nick putting her special little guy through lately? _Well, what is he putting my man through that_ _ **doesn't**_ _involved bullets flying?_ She mentally amended.

"Yuuuusss..." the desert fox moaned as she worked out a particularly tough cramp in his left foot.

Watching the petite vulpine amongst them turning to J-ello in his girlfriend's grasp, Angel smirked as she leaned in to whisper to her eldest sister, "I'm just waiting around to see what happens when Cherry accidentally touches is butt."

Vanilla couldn't help but chuckle. Honestly, she wanted to see how bad it was too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Carmelita pushed the door opened, she and Nick were greeted by a lot of light. Despite it being night, the combination of the hotel being situated up high in the hills and the large bay windows that faced towards the West allowed for the most beautiful view of sunset. The natural illumination highlighted the deep wooden furniture with no pits or stains in them, with coverings so white it was like nothing had ever touched them to befoul them. There were no stains on the plush white carpets, almost as if they were just laid. It was a room so pristine there was no unnatural smell of cleaners to be had. Just the cool, clean air of the Tundratown District.

Everything was so clean that Inspector Fox had to wonder if they weren't the first mammals to ever use the place.

She was taken out of her mental reverie when the polar bear with the facial scar that served as head of security for the Snow Palace chimed out, "Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, feel free to call for concierge for room service."

The woman blinked her eyes, her mind slowly registering what the former Bratva had told her. "Um... yeah..." the Hispanic vixen murmured as she continued to look around, stunned by the suite's level of luxury. It might have been pretty Spartan but everything was of the highest quality imaginable. She was pretty certain one of the couches alone cost more than her annual salary with Interpol.

Her fellow male fox however, was more interested in the kitchen he could see coming off the Eastern wall of the living room. Is... is that a minibar?" Nick asked as he walked towards some plush white seats to get a better look at the area. Seeing a tavern-style counter top and specialized cabinetry that hung on the wall, his viridian eyes lit up, shining like emeralds in the noon-day sun. "It is! Dibs! I call dibs!" He chimed out as he ran towards it with such enthusiasm and delight that one might think he were but a kit in a candy store.

Watching her fellow red fox climb the lower set of kitchen cabinets for a moment to get to the hanging cabinet, the vulpine then turn to Vinsent, nodding his head. "That will be all. Thank you." As the polar bear grunted in response and exited, closing the door behind him as he did, the Latina beauty couldn't help but question, "Dibs? Nicholas, what're you... talking... about..." the Interpol Inspector trailed off as she saw Wild throwing open the doors of the mini-bar and immediately begin to raid it as if he were the hero protagonist in some videogame. "Nick! What do you think you're doing!?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?' The male fox replied as he folded up the bottom of his shirt into sack-like shape as he gently dropped mini-bottles liquor into it. "This is complimentary so I plan to—SQUEE! Toblerones! _**I LOVE TOBLERONES**_!" He squealed like a fangirl as he held up the triangular chocolate bar filled with shaved bits of nougat, honey, and almonds. "Gouda All-Bitey, I can never seem to find these things anywhere **BUT** in hotel mini-bars! Just what is up with that, am I right?"

"I... I have no clue," Carmelita admitted as she walked further into the room, her chocolate eyes darting about as she took in the view of her surroundings. "I just want to get this off my chest first." Taking a deep breath, she could only say, "Wow!" She stated firmly. As the male vulpine stared at her, she blushed slightly before adding, "What? It is an amazing room. I can only imagine how our friends would react if they saw where we were right now."

"Finnick would tell me," Nick coughed to clear his throat to try and deepen his voice, "Nick! Steal everything that's not nailed down! Yes, even the ashtrays. Heck, steal things that are nailed down if you can!" He smirked and then sweetly added, "And I would have to point out that I didn't bring anything with me that could hold that much." Because he was honestly considering his partner-in-semi-crime's words of wisdom truly wise right now.

The vixen couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the male red fox's blatant disrespect for the law. "Yes, it's a good thing that you only have enough room in that shirt to run off with stuff that is meant to be taken... especially since **you're admitting all this to a police officer** ," she stated firmly, letting her fellow vulpine know exactly what she thought of that.

His ears perking up at the dangerous tone to the woman's voice, the con-mammal chuckled nervously. "Oh come on, Carm! Let me live a little!" He begged as he started sliding triangular chocolate bar after three-sided-chocolate bar into the upturned hem of his shirt. "I mean, this is chocolate infused with the triple-threat of nougat, nuts, and honey! How could you hold it against me!?" Especially since he was the one that was going to forgo his shirt and risk pneumonia so he could have a make-shift sack to carry all the mini-bar goodness he could home with him! _Then again, maybe I could walk out wearing one of the bathrobes if they're small enough_ , he thought in a most devious fashion.

Shaking her head, the woman exhaled in exasperation. Staring at him, she warned the man, "I mean it, Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Don't go taking anything you shouldn't."

Taking his right paw off the hem of his Hawaiian shirt and carefully balancing the mini-bar bounty with the grasp of his left, the male red fox waved off his fellow vulpine's worries. "Relax, relax! I won't!" He promised her. "That's just not my way! But I guarantee you I am going to leave this place that much richer in alcohol and sugar!" He cackled before turning back to the mini-bar to toss the mini-cartons of chocolate milk into his pile for good measure.

Bringing her right hand up, Carmelita growled in irritation as she slowly rubbed her head with her paw, her left ear twitching off as it lowered to the side. "I wonder if this is how corrupt cops start out..." she murmured, remembering all the times that Sly would tease her about such things... which really, should have been the a big tip-off that the raccoon was lying about his amnesia in the first place.

With that thought in mind, she brought her hand down and from her head, the woman brought it to her chest and grasped the large ring in her hand as it hung form the gold chain. It would have been large enough for her wrist to use as a bracelet if only her hand were small enough to slip through. She couldn't help but look over the sigil that graced the signet ring: a church with three cupolas and a cross in the center of the building. It amazed her how something so steeped in criminality could have such religious ties.

It certainly made Officer Fox wonder just how much overlap there was in her life since Cooper came into the picture.

Such worries were derailed when a loud cry tore through her consciousness. "Oh my goodness!" Nick shrieked out as he leaned into minibar fridge. "Could it really be..." his jaw dropped. "Holy crap, it is! This is a Royal DeMaria!"

The Latina vulpine blinked her eyes a few times in curiosity. "Royal DeMaria? What's so special about that?" She queried. At the shocked look the male fox gave her the woman replied, "What? Just because I lived in Paris for the past eight years doesn't mean I was much of a wine snob. I just drank a little now and then on special occasions." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And even then I was more of a champagne fan."

Realizing he had to be the one to break it to her, the male fox stammered out, "Carmelita, you need to understand! This is Royal DeMaria! _**Ice wine**_!"

That bit of information made the woman blink her chocolate gaze in genuine surprise. "Ice wine?" She repeated. Ironically, it would make sense that the Tundratown inhabitants would be a fan of such a drink that used, 'ice' in its title. "What's so special about it?"

Deciding to educate the poor naïve vixen, the pawpsicle hustler opened his shirt, carefully dropping the other goodies onto the countertop he'd been standing on. Turning to face his female friend, he then explained, "This is a dessert wine that is made from grapes frozen on the vine before the fermentation process begins; the process of getting enough grapes that aren't ruined by this natural cooling process makes them incredibly scarce. This Riesling alone costs _**thirty-thousand dollars**_! You could buy a Mini Cooper for that price!" He smiled and shook in a rather giddy fashion, practically bounding on the heels of his feel as he looked over the wine. "Hell, I could resell this elsewhere and make a pretty—"

"Put it back," Carmelita said firmly, interrupting his spiel. "Now."

The male fox gawked at the woman's command. "But Carm! This was in the mini-bar! It was meant to be taken! Kozlov even said he would comp any charges!"

"True, but I highly doubt the man would appreciate you billing him over thirty grand," the Hispanic policewoman retorted firmly. "Or would you like to end up one of those frozen iced bodies recovered from underneath Tundratown's public skating rink?"

That realization made the male fox blink his eyes. She certainly had a point there. "...Can I at least drink it then?" Seriously, if he couldn't sell it for fear or unleashing a former Russian mob boss's rage, he had to have a taste of this. It had to be _way_ better than any regular swill that he could get at any of the bars in the Downtown District!

Although the Latina vulpine visibly relaxed as Wilde dropped the idea of wanting to make a quick fortune off of someone else's generosity, she still felt the need to calmly remind him, "Again: you would be sticking a retired mafia boss with a thirty-grand bill."

His ears lowering to the sides of his head, male vulpine frowned. True, while he wouldn't be getting money off of re-selling it, Kozlov would still be losing a good deal of cash. "Fine, fine..." he grumbled in annoyance. "Maybe I should... oh, hey!" He put the bottle away and pulled out another one. "How about we open this one? It's far more reasonably priced stuff. Only three-hundred bucks a bottle!"

Coming around the bar counter, the vixen soon climbed up onto the kitchen countertop to join Nick by the mini-bar. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the red wine he was holding. "Bertani Amarone?"

Nodding his head, the male vulpine chirruped, "Italian: 1990 vintage." He affirmed as he held up the bottle and shook it slightly. Giving her a mischievous smile, he couldn't help but query, "Care to share?"

Taking a deep breath, the woman brought her right hand up to her face and pinched the bridge of her muzzle right beneath her eyes in an effort to avert an oncoming headache. "You know what? If it will get you to relax and stop trying to pick up everything from the mini-bar, then fine. We'll split it. Okay?" At least if she could tell the polar bear she partook of it, she doubted the resort owner would make too much of a deal over a few hundred dollars when his business likely dealt in six digits monthly.

A wide smile blossomed over the crimson-pelted canid's muzzle. "Works for me," Nick admitted as he opened the wood cabinet to the left of the mini-bar. Smiling, he reached in and pulled out a pair of long-neck wineglasses. Setting them down on their bases, the vulpine immediately popped the cork. "Shall we?" He asked before filling the tall cylindrical drinking glasses with the burgundy-colored liquid.

"Sure," the orange-pelted vixen replied as she carefully took one of the glasses in hand.

Turning about to sit down on the kitchenette countertops with their legs over the sides, the two foxes gazed from their perk towards the windows, the sun getting lower over the horizon and bathing the room in a deep orange light, the sensation warm despite being inside off a building that was primarily ice and snow. Holding up his glass, Nick offered the vixen a smile. "Cheers... here's to surviving what had to be the craziest day of our lives."

Nodding her head firmly, the female red fox caused her navy blue tresses to bounce slightly from the motion. "I'll drink to that," Miss Fox replied as she clinked her glass with Wilde's own. She then brought it to muzzle, the vulpine woman allowing the wine to sit and breathe so she could take in its aroma. "Surprisingly robust and savory... what do you think, Nick?"

The male fox, for his part, was merely chugging the wine as fast as he could drink it. Pulling the empty glass away from his lips, the male vulpine exhaled deeply in satisfaction, taking satisfaction in the tingle in left in his throat. "What was that? You say something, Carm?"

The vixen twitched slightly at how boorish he was with his drink. "...I swear to God, for someone who knows so much about wine you drink like an unsophisticated drunken lout." Yet **another** thing that he did which reminded her all too much of Sly... took her forever and a day to get him to take things slow. They didn't go out drinking often so they needed to savor the moment and treat it like the special treat it was.

The troublesome tod merely gave his fellow fox a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "What can I say? I'm not a rich and pompous jackrabbit so I'm going to drink how I want!" Nick proclaimed firmly. "Besides... mmm..." he smacked his lips, enjoying the aftertaste. "This is really good stuff," he murmured as he began to pour himself a second glass.

Watching as the male fox continued to attack the bottle with gusto, the Latina vulpine couldn't help but query, "So Nick, I take it you're a fan of wine?"

Shrugging his shoulders once more in response, the male fox admitted, "Any alcohol, really. As long as the amounts are copious and/or the price is low..." he chuckled as he filled his glass to nearly the brim. "And it doesn't get much better than _**free**_ ," he chirruped happily before he started downing the crystalline glass.

Staring at her fellow vulpine as he practically chugged, the female red fox couldn't help but roll her eyes before finally partaking of her own glass, daintily sipping of it. Her triangular ears twitched above her head in surprise as the sensations that hit her taste buds. Lowering the glass, the woman smacked her lips a couple of times, getting a real taste for what she had just drank. "Say... this actually _is_ good."

"Yep!" The con-mammal stated in agreement with the lovely lady's observation. "I'm definitely not going to be legal to drive for a few hours after this." Nick chirruped happily, pleased with the buzz he was getting. "Or operate heavy machinery for that matter."

The woman nodded her head in agreement. "So it's a good thing we'll be sleeping it off," she said firmly. Taking a moment to swirl the contents of the wine in her glass a bit more, Carmelita turned her head to look at her fellow vulpine. "Say, Nick... do you know how to drive? Every time we've been together in a vehicle, it's always been Finnick that was behind the wheel... and I have a feeling there's more to it than just simple possessiveness of his van."

The male fox was silent for a moment, carefully mulling over his thoughts as he decided on a response. Finally, he told the vixen, "Well when it comes down to it... I know _how_ to drive but I'm not licensed."

"Really?" The Hispanic vixen chirruped in surprise. "Well that certainly explain why Finnick has been the designated driver..." she murmured in understanding. "Still, that makes me curious. How come you never got a license? If you know how, it shouldn't be that difficult to take a test with the DMV and get certified."

Shrugging his shoulders, Nick slowly began to explain in a guarded manner, "It's not something that seemed all that necessary with Zootopia's major public transportation system in place. Besides, it's not that odd I don't have a driver's license. About only one in thirty predators have one... and it's only that high because of all the preds that ended up becoming cops."

Needless to say, that little fact caught Carmelita's attention. "Pardon?" She queried, the way he explained that ringing off warning bells in the back of her head.

Nodding his head slowly, the male fox reached over for the bottle and began to refill his glass, slower this time. "Predators never really drove or even bought cars in Zootopia before the Nineties. Tame collars made it all but impossible for them to drive. Whether it's a rise in one's heart-rate because of needing to make emergency maneuvers, enjoying the open lanes, or even indulging in a little bit of road rage... _**ZAP**_!" He turned his head to look at his fellow fox. "Trust me: a convulsing mammal has no control over their steering wheel or car pedals."

The truth behind the current statistic made Inspector Fox twitched with obvious irritation. She was seriously getting the urge to hope into the Cooper Gang's time machine, go back to the summer of '55, grab an old school tommy gun and deal with some issues...

 **Permanently**.

But no... as much as she enjoyed the thought of following through with such a plan, the Hispanic vixen never would. Doing that would be bad and the place would probably end up with something far worse _. For all I know, asking Bentley to take me back to do such could lead to a rise in a mafia presence that_ _ **isn't**_ _as friendly as Kozlov_ , she thought with dread. Really, if it wasn't one thing with Zootopia, it was another.

So with that in mind, the vulpine woman began to chug her own glass in frustration, ignoring how Nick was cheering her on as she downed her wine. Gasping as she finished it, the woman held her now empty drinking glass out to her fellow red fox, asking him to, "Top me off."

"Sure thing!" Nick replied with a smile before he happily poured her another glass... and then another one for himself. Placing the bottle down and lifting his own glass, he lifted it up before his muzzle and grinned wider. "Ah... now _this_ is how to live! Almost makes me forget all the crap that I've had to put up with so far."

Pausing in mid-lift of her glass, the woman tuned her head towards her current drinking-partner. Mulling over those words for a moment, she slowly nodded her head in understanding and sympathy. "Yeah. I can imagine that Zootopia has been a difficult place for predators–foxes especially–to grow up in. But tell me. You mentioned that you wanted to open a theme part just for carnivores?" She was hoping talking about such could cut him off before his current line of thought mixed with heavy drinking took him to terrible state of mind.

The mention of his amusement park caused a wide smile to spread across the male red fox's muzzle once more. Nodding his head, the crimson-pelted canid explained, "Wilde Times was my dream for the longest time. I remember how hard my childhood was? I admit, while things are getting better I know it's still rough. I wanted to give cubs and kits a chance to be revel in being themselves, you know? Give them and their parents a place where they wouldn't have to suppress their animal instincts and let them indulge in them! I had designs for a wooden roar-a-coaster, a yarn-filled ball pit, a log ride, a race track, free-range bumper cars... shoot! I even had the idea for a little karaoke howl studio for the canids out there–wolves in particular–to get their moon urges on."

Carmelita had to laugh at that last part. "Oh God! I can just imagine it! And all the broken glass from the howling."

"That was why I planned to make sure the room with the karaoke was reinforced with mattresses to muffle the rest of the place from their racket." Shrugging his shoulders helplessly, Wilde explained, "Hey, I can understand the value of letting dum-dums like wolves get their howl on. They'll be less likely to do it amongst other animals in public... but that doesn't mean other park attendees should be forced to listen to it while they're enjoying a chance to run around, scratch things, gnaw on fish jerky, and just enjoy that which makes us what we are: predators with pride."

Smiling at the exuberance her fellow red fox was displaying, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head. "A noble ideal indeed," she admitted in all seriousness, feeling a bit of pride that Nicholas could look past his own lot in life and desire to help others–even if he would have been making a few bucks off of it in the long run. "It's too bad you couldn't get anything going."

Sighing, male vulpine replied, "Tell me about it..." he was about to drink more of his wine, only to pause. Setting down the glass beside him on the countertop once more, he reached behind himself and carefully felt around. Withdrawing one of the oddly shaped candy bar boxes, he offered, "Toblerone?"

Looking down at the candy she was being offered, Carmelita considered it for a moment before nodding her head in affirmation. "All right. I'll split it with you."

The small smile on the male mammal's face blossomed into an outright mischievous grin. He slowly punctured the top along the ridged tear area and pulled it off, revealing the first brick of prism-shaped triangular chocolate. Breaking it off from the rest of the bar, he brought the piece up to and held it before the vixen's lips. "Now open wide and say, 'ah'..."

Although she couldn't help but roll her eyes, the Latina vulpine did smile back at her fellow red fox. "A~aahhhh..." she cooed out, playing along with him. Miss Fox wasn't sure if it was the atmosphere, the fact that she was starting to relax, or the wine at play but she felt it was nice to do something like this once in a while.

Gently placing the chocolate that was infused with fragments of sugary, candy, and nutty sweetness on her tongue, the male vulpine used his index finger to gently rub the piece of chocolate over the woman's taste buds, getting it to slowly melt little by little. Pulling his hand from her mouth, the mischievous red fox made a show of licking his fingertip before bringing that hand back to the woman's face once more. Cupping the underside of her chin, he moved her jaw up into place, carefully closing it. "That's it... savor the chocolate... and chew slowly."

Carmelita couldn't help but roll her eyes a second time. This man drank liquor as if it were water yet treated chocolate like one would fine wine! _He has some really skewed priorities_... the vixen thought as she did as told, chewing the piece of German chocolate. Admittedly, it was pretty good. aAlthough the Hispanic vulpine had to admit, she wasn't the biggest chocolate fan in the world, this was nice on occasion. She wouldn't tell Nick but this wasn't even the best chocolate she had ever had. Hard to beat genuine Swiss chocolate that was so rich that it covered your taste buds in such thick layer of chocolaty goodness that all you could taste for a week after that was the sweet, milky rich goodness of cocoa.

Watching as the woman enjoyed her piece of chocolaty bliss, Nick carefully slid a bit more of the bar out of its container before breaking off a piece for himself. Carefully sliding it onto his tongue, the man moaned in heavenly goodness. Damn, how he loved Toblerones. The only thing better than this would be his mother's fresh blueberry pancakes! _Sweet Gouda, I haven't had fresh blueberries in years!_

Watching her fellow fox revel in the joy he got from the German candy bar, the Latina vixen decided now might be the best time. He was relaxed from both sweets and alcohol and the revelry in remembering his dreams also helped ease his tension. The combination of such meant his lips might now be a bit looser. Miss Fox didn't want to worry him but there was something that Kozlov had said which had bothered her and she wanted clarification. "Say... Nick?"

"Mmmhmmm?" Was the male fox's response as he finished swallowing, his right thumb already pressing against the triangular chocolate bar once more to break off another portion of sweet, _**sweet**_ milk chocolaty goodness.

Making sure her voice was calm and even, the woman gently asked, "So what was Mr. Cold talking about when he mentioned you were a hustler involved in underhanded dealings?" She winced as she watched the male fox go stock-still as the fur on his tail poofed out completely. "...Nick?" She whispered his name quietly. That wasn't exactly the reaction she was expecting. Most animals who did shady dealings often felt ashamed if they were trying to go straight or maybe disgust for how they were. This was more akin to pure fear. _But why would he be afraid, unless he's still hustling?_ Carmelita couldn't help but think. She hoped such certainly wasn't the case but still... it would have explained a lot.

His green eyes slowly swiveling towards her, the male vulpine put the chocolate bar down. Rolling his shoulders in their sockets, the crimson-pelted canid hustler did his best to suppress the shiver of dread he felt wanting to make its way up his spine. Taking a deep breath, the male fox replied, "It's been... _complicated_ , to say the least," he began in earnest.

Nodding her head in understanding, the vixen with navy blue tresses calmly addressed, "We've got more than enough time right now." Her chocolate eyes stared into the other vulpine mammal's viridian gaze. "Come on, Wilde. I trusted you when you first offered me a hand with my stuff when I was trying to put my suitcase together after that asshole from Flamingo Flats threw it into traffic. Can't you give me the benefit of the doubt too?"

The male fox opened his mouth to respond... only to snap it shut. His shoulders sagging, the troubled tod had no way to really respond to that. It was true. She had no reason to trust him and gave it to him back then, even against her better judgment considering what she had just gone through. Still could he trust her to understand, despite being an officer of the ZPD? Unlike most times, when it came to the thought of, 'what's the worst that could happen'... well, he could think of quite a few things that _could_ happen to him, and not all of them were pleasant. "Are you sure? I mean... you are a cop and all that."

Sighing at the man's nervousness, the vixen firmly met his gaze with her own. "Even if you were a criminal, you wouldn't be the first I've worked with and you won't be the last, I bet," she replied in all honesty. Offering him a smile, the woman added, "Hell... it's because of one of those, 'criminal connections' that I was actually talked into taking on this job in the first place."

That confession made the male predator blink his eyes. "Wait! I thought you joined the Mammal Inclusion Initiative because your boss made you?" He questioned in all seriousness. He remembered certain things that were said when he tried to pick up her uniform.

"He may have forced the issue to make me accept the position but my pal Bentley was the one who made it possible for me to come to terms with it..." she let off a little snort. "Otherwise I was going to fight Chief Barkly fang and claw until he chose someone else for this idiotic idea of Mayor Lionheart's."

Such a statement made the canid con-mammal blink his eyes once, twice, _thrice_. "...Huh. Really?" He considered that for a moment before letting off a chuckle. "Dang. Well I guess we should thank him. Since you've been here you managed to get so much in mere days... **DAYS**!" He straightened up where he sat next to her as he proclaimed, "Hell! I think you've done more in a few days than the entirety of the ZPD in a few _**months**_!"

Carmelita merely shrugged her shoulders at that; Wilde clearly had to be exaggerating. "Maybe. It's more likely that everyone was inclined to do what they're doing but needed a trigger to push them to do it." She then frowned sadly as she looked into his eyes once more. "And stop trying to change the subject, Nicholas. We were talking about you."

Realizing he had been caught, the fox in a Hawaiian shirt and tie couldn't help but cringe. He should have known it would be no use trying to pull the proverbial wool over the eyes of another fox. So taking a deep breath and exhaling to clear his thoughts and calm his nerves, the male red fox replied, "I've never done anything that is counted by the definition of illegal. Underhanded and illegal are completely different things. Sure, the morality of what I've done over the years is undoubtedly questionable but I _never_ did anything to break the law." His ears lowered behind him, practically plastered to his skull. "It's been the only way to consistently make money to get by in this city."

Left unsaid was it was the only way to get enough money to take care of himself and... _her_.

As her friend prattled on, the vixen with navy blue tresses frowned slightly. It sounded like he was trying to justify himself. That was **never** a good sign. "What did you do? Sell bad products to your fellow mammals? Lie about said products? Steal credit card numbers and/or personal information?"

"...I make my own products and possibly charge more than they're worth," Nick replied in all seriousness. At the confused look she gave him, he replied, "As I said before, it's not like I'm doing so illegally. I **do** have a specialist vendor's permit and receipt of declared commerce all good for Zootopia. It's just..." he shrugged. "I cut corners here and there and make sure to get the biggest bang for my buck in all my venues of business."

The Hispanic vixen blinked her eyes once, twice. "...There's nothing wrong with that, Nicholas. It's called, 'Capitalism'." Good Lord! Was Zootopia so Liberal that they would become a Communist City-State beneath the veneer of being a hippy commune they portrayed to the rest of the Zoonited States?

"...Maybe?" The male red fox replied slowly. He then blinked his bright green eyes as what she was telling him started to penetrate his skull. "Wait, you mean that's how it's done in the rest of the world?" Granted it always felt wrong when he was doing such but when he actually said it out loud, it sounded a lot less terrible than it actually was.

As if to confirm his sudden confusion, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head. "More-or-less," she replied. "Animals who can't offer services for a living often buy resources at a low price, put them together however needed, and then sell the final product at a higher price to cover costs and make maximum profit."

His jaw dropping, it took Nick a moment to gather his wits. After a bit, he finally chirruped, "Holy crap! And here I thought I was the only one to have someone buy Jumbo Pops for them to melt them down into... smaller... icy..." he trailed off as he saw the woman staring at him with her wide brown eyes. "...That's not how others do it, is it?"

"...No... no it's not," the Latina vulpine replied with a twitched. "...That is what I would call incredibly _questionable_ if not outright **ghetto** but it's certainly not illegal..." she sighed. "Can you at least promise me those pops are all natural... even with all the red dye number forty?"

"Yes," the male fox stated firmly. Everything from the cheap tongue depressors used as the sticks to the gutter leavings he melted them into to fill jugs at the bottom spouts was all, one-hundred percent natural something or another!

Nodding her head in relief, the off-duty policewoman replied, "All right. Is there anything else you want to tell me about, anything that worries you at all?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Nick replied, "Finnick and I do a number of odd jobs that others don't want and then make further profit from them. Like how we sometimes work at a sheep salon as janitors for minimum wage, only to use all the wool we cleaned out at the end of the day to sell to a t-shirt manufacturer for profit."

"..." Really, there was nothing the vixen could say as she tried to register the mental image of the pair of foxes using a large push-broom to roll shaven wool into the back of the fennec's old clunker of a van.

The rather perturbed stare made the male fox really uncomfortable if not self-conscious. "What!? They weren't using it for anything!" The male vulpine replied in his defense. "And besides, they didn't want it and the owners of the salon sure as heck didn't want it hanging around! All parties gave up any and all ownership of said discarded wool!" He cried out in exasperation, his heartbeat going faster as his body prepared for fight or flight... most likely flight as he fought not to drop any of his mini-bar booty.

Realizing how Wilde was starting to go on the defensive, she tried to diffuse his worries by explaining, "No, no... nothing like that, Nick," Carmelita promised her fellow red fox. "I'm just trying to imagine Finnick with a push-broom that is likely five sized-too-large for him," she replied honestly before shaking her head. "That is... er... questionable..." she said seriously. "I'm beginning to understand why you're worried. While none of what you've said so far is illegal it really does paint you in a poor light as a scheming, tightwad..."

"...I prefer the phrase, 'resourceful entrepreneur'," Nicholas stated in his defense.

"And I'm sure that mob bosses like the phrase, 'resource distributors' as well." Carmelita shot back, smirking at him. However, her smile died almost immediately as she saw the look of shame on his face. "Come on, Nick... it's not _that_ bad. Sure, what you've done in pursuit of a buck might not have been good for yours or Finnick's reputations but you didn't do anything that bad." She then snorted. "And certainly not illegal!"

Although the next time he offered her a pawpsicle, she was going to think twice before accepting.

Raising his head, the male vulpine carefully met his fellow fox's face once more. "You mean that?" He queried, his tone that of disbelief. He had always heard so much in the way of rather nasty remarks while working that it seemed that he had to have been in the wrong. Even he felt dirty doing some of the stuff he had done, even when he justified it to himself... such as making certain to never lie to anyone who could pay him. No, his was just a form of creative truth-telling.

Nodding her head, the Latina vulpine firmly replied, "I do." The small smile that had been on her face when she had been teasing him returned. "Trust me. I would know better than anyone." Deciding to throw her fellow fox a bone, she admitted, "Hell, my last boyfriend was a wanted master thief."

That caught the male fox's attention, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" Nick almost wanted to make a joke about her ex stealing Carm's heart and never letting go of it but he managed to hold back...

Somehow.

Giving the male red fox a firm nod of her head, the off-duty policewoman explained, "Trust me. Sly Cooper was the latest in a long line of master thieves: an entire legacy that was steeped in supposedly, 'noble' criminals. He reasoned his lifestyle was righteous by following the creed that a master thief never steals from regular animals but instead target other master criminals." She frowned. "Either way, it was _still_ breaking the law outright. Just because he did it to others who broke the law as well didn't mean he was justified to do so: two wrongs don't make a right."

Nick nodded his head in agreement. Admittedly while the male vulpine was upset to know that Miss Fox had a boyfriend at one point, he was interested in knowing more about this Cooper person. "Unless you live in the Chinatown, where all Wongs are rights."

Her ears drooping, Carmelita gave her fellow red fox a flat stare. "That's a _**bad**_ joke." Not as terrible as Sly trying to fake an Italian accent but it was darn close!

Shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, the male fox replied, "Are bad jokes a crime?"

"No, but sometimes I think they should be," the Hispanic vixen replied before shaking her head; memories of a number of Cooper's flirty double-entendre coming to mind. Letting off a small sigh, she straightened up on the edge of the countertop before turning her head to look at the vulpine beside her. "But I mean it, Nicholas. I know what a real criminal is, all right? You are _not_ a criminal..." she then smirked deviously. "An asshole, certainly, but not a criminal."

Managing a small smile of his own, Wilde tilted his head towards the lovely Latina lady and gave her yet another helpless shrug of his shoulders as he offered, "At least I'm not one-hundred-percent a dick."

The vixen with navy blue tresses agreed, "Of course not. Because then you'd be getting pounded down hard otherwise." She winked at him.

Nick blinked as Carmelita gave him a bemused grin. "...Well, that's one way to put it, I suppose," he murmured as he looked down at his Toberlone and the empty bottle of Bertoni Amarone for a few moments before raising his gaze to meet hers once again; green and brown meeting firmly. "...Any chance we can open another bottle?"

Considering that small request for a moment, the Hispanic vulpine relented, "As long as it's not the Royal, I don't see why not." She didn't want Kozlov decided to relive the 'glory days' by breaking Wilde's kneecaps over wasting three-thousand dollars on his dime.

Smiling in relief, Nick told her, "Thank you." After the way the day had gone, he was going to need to do a lot of drinking...

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 **Author's Notes** : Happy Halloween! I may be a little late with posting this because of things, both good and bad going on in real life but I think considering the subject matter in the first half of this chapter, the release date is rather fitting. Your patience is very much appreciated.

In a lighter news, Furpocalypse was a blast but it did take up the time I needed to finish this chapter... and then dad had me working on the jeep with him all afternoon and evening but we have it turned back into a plow and ready for winter! 

On a lighter note, I did meet a former Disney artist at the convention and I will hopefully have a nice pic of Carmelita in the ZPD uniform that has that classic Disney Animation flair. The artist had filled up the first day but she was willing to do take-home work.

Now for questions I have gotten in reviews. To answer Cerberusx: Carmelita's shock pistol **IS** at home on the charger. Yeah, she won't be leaving it at home from here on out if she can help it.

Also, to answer KhaosMaster: The phrase of, "pelt" is a general slur against Predators of any species. The majority of predators have fur pelts while prey are covered in various ways but very rarely fur outright with the exception of rodents and small forest creatures. You get more hair and leather from prey mammals more often than not. Hence why, "pelt" became associated with carnivores as a threatening slur to them.

Also I got a private message about the last chapter; the answer for which I will share here. I was asked what all the Russian titles for their mafia meant and here is a small explanation as it is also pertinent to this chapter as well

 **Pakhan** : The Boss.

 **Derzhatel Obschaka** : The bookkeeper, the money-lender, the second-in-command.

 **Avtoritet** : The Authority, the Captains, the leaders of gangs on street-level if you will.

 **Brigadier** : High Ranking Soldier

 **Bratok** : Soldier

 **Brodyaga** : Initiate

Well I hope all those answers help and that you, my readers enjoyed this chapter. Gouda willing, Chapter 15 should go up November 12th!

Remember, Try Everything... including delicious Bacon King sandwiches!


	15. Rude Awakening

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 15: Rude Awakening

Looking out the small circular window of his room on the second floor of the family's tailoring business a young fox looked out his window at the rainstorm outside. The torrent of water was an absolute deluge that showered down powerfully. He had been put to bed over an hour ago, but the thunderstorm wouldn't let him rest. The heavy pelting of rain interjected by a sudden crack of lightning that illuminated his room and the following boom of thunder was too much to ignore. He curled up underneath his blanket, just staring at the window; his ears twitching wildly as they took in all the noise of thick raindrops splattering against his window echoed within his bedroom. Nicholas was doing his best to calm down as he didn't want to be shocked again.

His right paw reached up and idly scratched at the Tame collar around his neck.

The little kit finally sat up in his bed when the second burst of thunder seemed to practically shake and the earth around him; the window itself rattling violently. Biting his lower lip in a nervous fashion, the young fox carefully slipped out from under the covers before crawling down from his bed. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the small fox cub quickly rushed towards his parents' bedroom. He didn't want to be alone at a time like this. The weather outside was just too scary and fear would just bring more pain. 

Yet before he could even make it to their living quarters, he heard crying. The small red fox's ears swiveled atop his head as he tried to focus on source of the weeping. Turning his head towards the kitchen, young Nicholas made his way in the direction of the eating area. As he entered, the boy frowned as he saw his mother at the table, hunched over the furniture as she had her arms crossed atop it; face buried in her forearms as her shoulders trembled. A frown pulled at the corners of his muzzle as he realized she was crying.

Needless to say, the little boy didn't know why his mother was sad but it upset him in turn. Carefully, the kit in pale green pajamas made his way over to the woman. His right paw reached up before gently grasping onto the material of her skirt and giving it a tug. "Mama?"

Francine didn't answer; possibly didn't even register that her son was in the room with her. Instead she let out a cry as her whole body jolted with the shock of electric charge, causing the room to become illuminated for a moment as her collar went off. As the vixen's body went rather flaccid against the table once more, the woman continued to weep into her arms, the woman irrevocably distraught as her damn collar continued to let off a repetitive beeping noise.

Now thoroughly confused, the boy released his grip on his mother's dressed and took a step back, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear it echo in his ears while his Tame Collar began to beep and shine with a yellow light in warning. Even if he didn't understand _what_ was going on, the boy was smart enough to realize that something was terribly wrong. Without a second glance at his mother, the kit turned around and ran straight towards their bedroom. "Daddy?" He called out, his bright green eyes wide with fear as he looked around for his father, only to find the room empty.

The kit turned away as quickly as he could from his parents' room before rushing along the small hallway and to the staircase, going as fast as his short little legs would carry him; tail slapping against each wooden step as he bounded down them. His heart continued to beat a mile a minute as he saw no one downstairs, the lights of the building off. He bit his lower lip, eyes darting around in the darkness as his night-vision allowed him to see within the shadows of the night.

It was when the lighting struck again that young Wilde noticed the outline of his father, decked out to the nines in his full suit. The mammal standing by the front window still; hands behind his back as he gazed out into the rainy streets of the Happytown District.

"Daddy!" The boy yelled as he leapt from the second-to-bottom step and landed on the ground with a loud thump. He pumped his arms as he dashed across the floor board with enough force that he made them creak.

The older mammal's once flattened ears raised up and he turned his head at the noise. His eyes widened as he saw the young fox cub rushing to him. "Nick!" He hissed as he turned about to face his son fully. "What are you doing here? You should be asleep!"

The young kit paused in is tracks, surprised at the immensely sad look on his father's face; the tear treks in his father's facial fur readily apparent. Still, the six-year-old was on the ball enough to answer, "I... I couldn't sleep with all the rain and lightning. And then I found mama crying in the kitchen and she got shocked! I ran around but I couldn't find you!" Although he was nervous, the boy continued to make his way towards his dad, closing the distance between them. "Pops, what happened?"

Taking a deep enough breath that his chest practically inflated to twice its size, the adult vulpine then exhaled, allowing even his shoulders to sag. "Nicholas," he said his son's name in a soft tone. "No matter what happens... I love you." 

The confusion on the kit's face was readily apparent. He walked up to his father and hugged him tightly around his legs. "What's going on, Daddy?" He frowned as his paws gripped tighter onto this father's pant leg. "Is this because of what happened at the bank?"

As the words of his son's worry played on his conscience, the adult red fox brought his left hand reached down, gently stroking the young kit's head. "I know what you're thinking, Nicky. Sometimes we ask ourselves, 'Why we can't we be like the prey mammals? Normal, accepted, and free?' But what I've come to understand is you have to ask yourself something truly important, my son: Why do you need to be like them?" As his son looked up at him, the adult gave his boy a wry smile and continued to stroke his hair. "The thing is life is unfair and you need to depend on yourself to survive it. Even when someone decides to extend the olive branch in one paw, remember they're holding a dagger behind their back with the other, ready to strike."

The buff vulpine male then lowered himself down to his knee, giving his son a tight hug in his muscled arms. "I'm going to need to you to be brave, Nicky. Your old man is going away for a while and I need you to be a good boy for your mother. Can you do that, sport?"

Raising his small arms up to hug his father around his neck, the red fox kit chirruped, "Where are you going Daddy?" He nuzzled the larger fox as he then questioned, "Why can't Mama and I go with you?"

"I'm just... going away." He sighed as his arms squeezed around his child a little tighter. "Trust me, Nicky. You don't want to go where I'm going."

Nick tightened his arms around his father's neck as tightly as he could, not wanting to let go. However, even as he stayed there with his father for a while, a new source of light began to flash through the window, illuminating the ground floor of the shop as the sound of sirens filled the air. The little fox opened his eyes to see the flashing red and blue lights of police cars.

Letting off a heavy sight, the man eased up on his hug. Bringing his hands to the boy's shoulders, he pushed him back slightly so he could look into the child's bright viridian eyes with his own. "I love you, Nicky. I love you and your mother so much." He leaned in and kissed his son on the forehead before standing up. His paws moved to the lapels of his suit jacket, flattening them out before moving to his neck, straightening his tie. "Stay back now. You don't want to get caught up in this."

With that said, the young fox watched as his father turned towards the front door and opened it, stepping out of their home and onto the streets. Ever curious, the young fox moved over to the front display window of the shop, his eyes gazing out to where his father was being pelted by the heavy rain as the streets were slowly filled with police cars; four already blocking off the front of the home while dozens more filled the streets to block off the store. 

A male ram in ZPD uniform got out from the driver's seat of police cruiser directly opposite the front door. The horned police officer stared at the fox from behind the lenses of his tinted glasses. "Johnathan Wilde?"

Looking around at the show of excessive mammal-power, the vulpine chuckled. "All of this for little old me, huh?" Taking a moment to tug at the cufflinks of his sleeves, the predator than shook out his arms, making certain he still looked his best, even for the proverbial firing squad. "Yeah, that's me. Honest John Wilde. You?"

"Officer Flocksworth," the uniformed bovidae replied as he took a set of handcuffs off his belt. "Down on your knees and hands behind your head, Wilde. You're under arrest."

Although he did as told as he kneeled down onto the soaked sidewalk, the vulpine decided to inquire, "On what charges?" He smirked. "Granted, I know they were going to do this, I merely wish to know what excuse that _**fucking asshole**_ from the Zootopia National Bank is using."

Although he frowned at the predators use of coarse language, he still acknowledge the request. "What do you think?" The ram snorted. As he came around behind the vulpine, he took hold of the fox's right arm and slapped the cuffs around his left wrist. "You're under arrest for aggravated assault, vandalism, harassment, tax corruption, and conspiracy to commit embezzlement." He then slapped the cuffs on the vulpine's right wrist, firmly binding John's arms behind him. Forcefully pulling the man to his feet, the ram bleated, "Now get moving!"

Grunting as the horned prey mammal pushed him towards the vehicle, the male fox looked behind him at the officer. "What? Not going to read me my Miranda Rights?" He asked snidely. "I mean, if you're going to slap be with a number of false charges then you might as well follow protocol full~ **AAAARRRRRGH**!" He roared out as his Tame collar went off, hitting him with another shock. He would have fallen to his knees if the ram hadn't been holding onto the fox's shoulders to lead him towards the police cruiser.

"A Chomper doesn't have rights," another officer said, a gray-furred boar wearing body armor that was adored in the colors of the ZPG and decked out with the term, 'TUSK' over the chest-plate declared as he held a remote control device aloft, aimed at the mammal. "Just consider yourself lucky we even deign to take a useless pelt like you in." He then pressed his thumb down the red button on the device once more, causing John to scream out in agony as the collar went off again, the neck restraint electrocuting him without the need for the usual biological or emotional trigger prompting.

The male ram actually had to yelp and release his grip of the fox, allowing the mammal to drop like a sack full of bricks. He then brought his cloven hooves together, vigorously rubbing them. "Sweet Cheese and Crackers, Razorback!" He bleated angrily. "Are you trying to kill me or something? My hooves were right by the damn thing!"

The boar let off a snort. "It's your own fault for not handling a predator properly. You were treating him with the respect reserved for one of Gouda's precious prey animals instead of the contempt a heathen, meat-eating _creature_ like him deserves!" Glaring at the horned herbivore, he firmly declared, "And that's **Captain** to you, _Officer_." Appeased as the ram turned his head to avert his gaze form his superior officer, the porcine police-mammal then walked over to the downed, trembling fox. "Now get up you lazy bum! Get up! You do not want to force me to carry your worthless hide to the car. If I do, it's because you have _no ability to walk_."

Panting deeply for much needed breath, the adult fox turned his head, looking at the cloven hooved feet of the warthog that was purposely shocking him again. "You... won't get away with this..." he said between strained gasps for air.

Watching as the fox squirmed about the asphalt street as the rain continued to come down, the boar with a series of scars over the right side of his face smirked in a rather devious manner that would have been more in place on the predators he hunted. "Of course I will. I am the law."

Nick bit his lip as he watched his father lit up for a third time; a number of other uniformed mammals starting to gather around, all brandishing nightsticks. "Daddy..." he whispered as thunder struck. Almost as if the lightning were a signal, the gathered officers began to beat his father right in the city streets, arms rising and falling in tandem with one another as their police batons struck the vulpine in the center of the crowd over and over again.

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His eyes snapping wide open, Nicholas awakened with a start; his blurred vision coming into focus enough to reveal the wall of the hotel room. His heart was hammering within his chest, as his eyes darted about as if looking for his fears made real. The desire to cry out was strong but his mouth was completely dry from all the alcohol he had the previous night; not a drop of saliva to be had even though he could feel the cold sweat on his brow. He brought his right paw up, carefully wiping his forehead as dry as he could before just holding it there.

Truth be told, he wanted to cry for the loss of his youth's innocence. Memories were always a painful thing for him to relive, especially _**that**_ one. _It's the damn wine's fault_ , the male red fox thought bitterly, trying to calm himself as he held off tears. His father's arrest was a long time ago and nothing was going to change it... or bring the man back. He usually put it to the back of his mind, but he supposed to alcohol wore down his defenses a bit more than he would have expected. He needed to get control of the situation. Nick promised that he could never let anyone see they got to him... not even himself.

So closing his eyes the predator began concentrating on his breathing, the mammal inhaling and exhaling slowly. Slowly but surely, he was calming himself. _I have to hand it to Kozlov_ , the crimson-pelted canid thought with a bit of relief as he settled himself back into bed. _These are some nice sheets. Very warm and soft_... the vulpine mentally praised as he leaned his head back into the impressively soft pillows. He didn't think the Arctic mammals that frequented this establishment would be comfortable with anything that sustained heat but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. It would make it easier to fall back asleep and give him the chance to postpone having to face another day in Zootopia a little bit longer.

However, when the male fox tried to roll onto his back to shift himself into an even more comfortable position, he found something was in the way preventing the motion. Smacking his lips a few times to try and force his saliva to start flowing again, the troubled tod reached back with his paw to grasp as what he thought were the sheets and comforter bundled up behind him.

Instead, he goosed something pliable to the touch yet firm... and a female voice made a small groaning sound from above him as his pillows began to shift. Even the blanket seemed to tighten around his chest. The pressure increased made the vulpine realize that he was in someone's grasp.

Nick's emerald eyes snapped wide open, all vestiges of sleep sapped from him in an instant. Yes, he had a thin layer of bed-sheets atop him but they were not the source of the warmth and comfort he was reveling in by a longshot. Turning his head left and right, the Wilde's pupils dilated to pinpricks as he realized he was being spooned by the Interpol Inspector and his sleeping arrangement was the larger woman.

Yes, those pillows that felt so comfortable were indeed _**pillows**_. 

Gulping nervously, the fox carefully withdrew his hand from what he now realized was the lovely Latina's posterior, hoping he didn't wake her up as his arm shifted over her. _No wonder I had several dreams of my time as a kit last night_ , the male canid thought with dread as he tried to slowly slip free of the vixen's grasp... only he cringe as her arms tightened further, her fingers digging into his abdomen fiercely to keep hold. "Eek!" He squeaked out as the woman craned her head forward, burying her face into the top of his head, nuzzling as she murmured something in her sleep. Nick couldn't help but shiver as he felt the rush of air travelling around his scalp as the woman breathed direction through his hair, practically inhaling his shortened pelt.

Nick tried to resume his calming breathing exercise again–now needed to calm _other_ reactions than suppressing bad memories. And through it all, one thought came to mind.

 _I wonder if this is how Finnick feels most of the time_.

Forcing that thought back down, the male vulpine quickly worked to take stock of his situation. The lovely orange-pelted vixen had him bound to her soft, comfortable body. So close that he could hear her slow heartbeat through her soft... warm...

His eyes snapped open again. It had to be her heartbeat! Because every time he concentrated on it, he felt so... relaxed...

His eyes snapped open again!

The liquor; Nick was blaming it for the fact he was having this reaction!

 _Mental note: tease Finnick that he has this issue as well... without mentioning I might too_. He wondered if this was something that happened to all mammals that were being cuddled by larger, softer ones. He would have to look that up on his phone... that is, assuming it had a charge and Carmelita didn't kill him when she woke up. Neither of them had their phone chargers... maybe he could ask Mr. Cold if he would be willing to comp one for him? After all, fifteen bucks was _nothing_ compared to a thirty thousand dollar bottle of Ice Wine...

...

...A bottle he now realized was standing upright on the nightstand beside the table, practically mocking the male red fox as it was prominently opened and empty.

 _Whelp_ , he thought with complete resignation. _I'm dead. Kozlov is going to see he's down thirty grand and I neither got to sell nor remember tasting it_ , the male vulpine mentally griped. That was really the worst part. If he was going to have the big polar bear have his eye on him, at the very least the canid con-mammal could have enjoyed the reason he'd be catching serious hell.

However, the hapless hustler was suddenly reminded that he had to deal with a whole other hell he was in for as the lovely woman seemed to squirm in her sleep, her right hand flexing fingers in her sleep, idly scratching his belly just above the waistband of his undergarments. Wilde really needed to find a way to break free from the larger vixen's grip, ASAP! Not that he wasn't enjoying the close contact with Miss Fox, oh heaven's no! But he could guess how the woman would react to waking up in bed with him... practically naked while they were surrounded by empty bottles and chocolate wrappers; particularly Toblerone boxes...

...And was that a pizza box? He didn't remember ordering pizza last night. _Just how much did we fudging drink!?_ Wilde wondered with alarm. It was almost enough to make him swear off alcohol in its entirety!

Empty ice wine!

Empty hotel boxes of food and sweets!

Pizza!

Just how much was he going to be down after last night!? Granted, he probably wouldn't and didn't plan to pay for any of it thanks to the resort owner's infatuation with the policewoman but he had been planning to sell some–if not all–of the stuff he took from the room's mini-bar. And he didn't know _who_ paid for the pizza!

And the tip! What was paid for the _**tip**_!?

 _Get a hold of yourself, man!_ He growled as he mentally berated himself, angry at the fact he was such a mess. He was swinging between anger, fear, and confusion while often drifting off to sleep all the while!

None of which was going to get him to safety before an angry polar bear–or an angry female, which was already more dangerous than the former–found him in his current predicament

More than anything, Nicholas Piberius Wilde needed a game-plan. So taking a deep breath, the male fox considered his situation and options available to resolve this FUBAR situation. Fortunately, being an old hat at the game, the male fox was able to come up with steps a bit faster than most mammals would give him credit for.

Step 1: He had to pull himself free of the vixen that was holding him like a safety stuffed animal.

Step 2: He needed to get dressed.

Step 3: He would launch all the empties out of a window and hopefully to a nearby rooftop, thus hiding all evidence. With how often it snowed in the Tundratown District, the stuff would be lost to everyone within the hour!

So with that plan in mind, Nick began to do his best to slip free from the sleeping woman's arms. The pawpsicle hustler just needed to get away long enough to make her think he slept on the couch and he would be golden.

However, the Hispanic beauty's eyelids clenched and she grumbled irritably in her sleep in response to the man's body beginning to slide down. The hand which had been idly scratching him in her sleep suddenly clamped down tight and pulled up, forcing the male fox back into his previous position against her. When he was, Carmelita sighed in relief and went back to nuzzling the top of his head and then his neck as she pulled him up even higher.

For his part, the male fox was doing an excellent job at staying quiet, especially as she dug into his flat and soft belly with her strong fingers and firm claws. Granted, he such was mostly because he was biting his tongue to keep from screaming out but he wasn't waking her up! _Okay, new game-plan_ , Wilde thought as he reached his arm forward for one of the actual pillows. He would try to pull that into the woman's grasp as he continued to slide down to pull the old switcheroo. _If Harrison Ford could do such as Indiana Bones in the Temple of Doom, then I can certainly—_

His eyes widening as his train of thought was most violently derailed as it went careening off the tracks, Nick relinquished his hold of the pillow to use both paws to firmly clamp his muzzle shut as she then woman bit down on his shoulder in a possessive manner. He couldn't help but whimper as the unconscious vulpine woman began murmuring around the mouthful of furred flesh she had a firm-fanged grip on, her teeth grinding down with the involuntary motions of her jaw as she spoke something incoherently.

This was it. Nick knew that now.

There would be no escape, no chance to see tomorrow. When the officer awoke, she would see them in their current position, and having almost tasted his blood, would strike him down. No more pawpsicles, no more schemes, no more helping Honey, no more jokes at Finnick's expense–especially about the book of them he had yet to publish.

Nope: the fox knew would die painfully this morning–either at Carmelita's paws or the hotel owner's.

But at least, when Nicholas passed, he knew his father would be there waiting for him and beaming with pride: his son went out with a hot vixen in bed with him.

 _Swing low, sweet chariot_ , he started to sing in his head. _Coming to take me ho~oooome_...

Fortunately, the bite seemed to let up after a few moments, the woman smacking her lips before letting off a little cough. Yawning, Carmelita's arms moved once again, feeling all over the smaller red fox's torso as she cuddled up with him as if he were a cub's stuffed animal toy. Fortunately, she didn't wake up from manipulating her hold of the more petite predator...

...Unfortunately, all the movement caused one of the empty bottles of wine that littered the bed to roll off and hit the floor with a clatter. The Hispanic vixen's ear twitched at the noise of glass hitting marble floor. While it didn't break and make a mess that would need to be cleaned up, the noise was enough to echo out and disrupt the woman's restful state.

Slowly, Carmelita opened her brown eyes, blinking her chocolate orbs a couple of times as consciousness returned to her: wondering why the hell her mouth was so dry and full of fur. _Ugh... my tongue feels like I've been grooming myself as if I were some savage animal_ , she thought as she coughed out a bit of a hairball; before licking her tongue along the roof of her mouth to make sure she got it all. "Yikes... what the hell did I drink?" She murmured in irritation, noticing a coppery taste along her tongue that seemed completely out of place once her maw was free of fur.

The poor con-mammal just twitched as he had a hairball splattered across his right shoulder. _At least she doesn't seem all that aware of her surround_ —

"Wilde?" Came the vixen's rather surprised query. "Just what are you doing in bed with me?" She asked in a dull, blunt tone that was one part curiosity, two parts confusion, and three parts hangover.

A thousand ideas went through his mind at that moment: ninety-percent of which involved how gruesome his death would be, five-percent being what sort of tales kids would make up about it and the remaining five-percent involving ways he might try and escape with himself still intact, and where he might have to move to or disguise himself as, in order to survive her pursuit.

Sadly for the experienced street hustler, there was just enough alcohol still present in his system to make him answer honestly and without forethought. "I've been asking myself that all day."

Inspector Fox blinked at that, her mind still hazy, as her eyes moved to try and take in the situation. She paused almost immediately, as she caught sight of her hairball, forcing her to close her eyes and quell her rebelling stomach.

Finally releasing the smaller fox so she could roll onto her back, Carmelita brought her right hand up to her face to rub it. Groaning as she tried to pinch the bridge of her muzzle to try and release some of the pressure that was currently pulsing in her head, the Latina vixen murmured rather impolitely in her native tongue, "Vete a la mierda con un gancho de carne." Taking a deep breath, the woman then calmly asked in English, "Please tell me we didn't have sex last night."

Nick blinked his eyes once, twice... that really hadn't been the response he had been expecting. Realizing that he only had one shot at this, he decided to forgo manners and check for one certain bit of proof. So without preamble, the male vulpine slipped his hand under the bed sheet and inside of his underwear and felt himself up. "We didn't. Bone dry... no pun intended," Wilde quickly amended as he heard the groan from the woman. "Which means we neither had sex nor did I–fortunately–piss myself in my sleep."

He frowned as something felt off. Not his junk, thank Gouda, but his undies. Frowning, the male fox brought his hands up to the top of the blanked and flipped the sheets down to look at himself... and went immediately went flush with embarrassment.

Opening her eyes as she felt a sudden shift of cold air from the naturally frozen environment of the Tundratown Distrist, the vixen was about to ask what Nick was thinking... only to have the words die on her lips when she caught sight of what her fellow fox was gawking at.

Finally, after an uncomfortable moment of awkward silence, the Latina vixen was able to finally say, "Well, now I understand why they had you working at a Victoria's Secret. My panties actually look good on you."

Nick just stared at them.

Yes, they _were_ comfortable.

But Nick realized something that, even being caught in such an incredibly embarrassing situation, still gave the man hope–and not the way Finnick would propose said hope. If the woman was laughing, she wasn't shooting/throwing him out a window/ripping him to shreds and wearing his skull like a post-apocalyptic warlord. She was calm, rational, and likely to let him live.

Heck, if the male red fox played his cards right, Carmelita might even keep quiet about the underwear he now had on–which, frankly, was more important. Dead was dead but his rep was almost all the canid con-mammal literally had!

And he knew his fennec friend would probably place it on his tombstone. Here lies Nicholas P. Wilde: Died while wearing women's underwear.

Considering the humiliated mammal currently sharing the bed with her had her underwear on, the vixen pulled down the sheets over herself, revealing a pair of red-striped white boxers. "Okay, seriously now..." she huffed out in irritation. "Just how much did we drink that we ended up stripping down to our underwear... and then how the hell much more that we ended up _**switching them**_!?"

The crimson-pelted canid gave his fellow fox a noncommittal shrug. "...Personally, I'm more upset that we ordered pizza and I don't remember eating any of it," he said in all seriousness as he lifted his foot to kick said box. The male vulpine then blinked his viridian eyes as he realized it didn't just go flying and, with rekindled hope, he turned himself over atop the mattress and crawled over to it. Flipping the lid of the box open, his emerald gaze shimmered as he saw, "There's still half the pie here!" He pulled a slice free and began chomping down. _Mmmm! Triple cheese!_ He thought with glee as he chomped down on the American-Italian bliss. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about pizza that made it taste even better the following day... even cold!

For her part, the Hispanic vixen practically gagged as she watched her fellow red fox eat. Her eyes were slowly drawn to man's ass where her panties crawled up the crack like a thong for a few moments–because it was still easier on her flip-flopping stomach than watching him gorge on old greasy pizza–the vulpine woman slowly assessed the situation for what it was. When the female red fox finally managed to brace her stomach against the urge to vomit, the canid cop then asked, "How the hell can you still eat!? I want to barf just watching you!"

Chomping feverishly for a few seconds, the male fox swallowed fiercely; a bulge visibly sliding along his throat as he did so. With his mouth free of the immense amount of cheese, he heartily replied, "Old college trick: eating greasy food the next day helps with the hangover. The grease soaks up a lot of the processed alcohol and keytones in your stomach, acting as a proverbial reset button."

That bit of information made the vixen raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh?" The lovely Latina chirruped, interested by what her fellow vulpine said. "You learned about this while in college?"

Nick evaded the subject by chomping down on another slice while up a third piece towards the vixen. He had gone to a college or two, yes. However, he had never been there as a student–except if one included high school and as part of a tour. It's just that colleges were known for cheap parties where a mammal could sneak in for even cheaper drinks.

There was also the fact drunk frat animals _loved_ pawpsicles and whatever else he was selling. Well, drunks and mammals who were too busy, 'expanding their minds' like that Yax fellow who ran the Mystic Oasis Spa in the Sahara Square District.

"What can I say? College isn't just for book-learning," he smoothly replied in a confident fashion. "I would offer you this slice to help with the headache but if you can't control your stomach enough, it'd just be a waste." He politely left off the fact that she had tossed up enough fluids on him already, thank you very much!

The woman looked at the pizza slice and cringed for a moment before nodding her head. "Yeah... give me a bit. I think I'll wait until breakfast proper..." the orange-pelted vulpine murmured as she started to head towards the shower, gazing about the room as she did. She paused when she caught sight of her bra hanging on the lampshade and gently reached up to pull it down before tossing it over her shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower. Can I trust you not to get into any further trouble without me around?"

Chewing a mouthful of cold pizza thoroughly before swallowing, the male red fox straightened up in his sitting position and gave the woman a mock salute; the raised hand still holding half a slice as he did so. "You can count on me, Inspector Fox!"

Nodding her head firmly and causing her messy navy blue tresses to bounce and wave with the motion, the woman replied, "Good. And for the record, you can keep the panties for now," she said in all seriousness as she continued to make her way to the bathroom. "Wash them and return them at a later date. I'll do the same with your boxers."

As she shut the door, Nick looked around for his pants. He certainly wasn't going to wear the panties any longer than he had to, and was willing to go commando until he could get back to Clawhauser's and grab a new pair.

Besides, if he was questioned about the bottle or bottles of wine, he'd rather **not** be found still wearing them if Vinsent and the polar bears who worked hotel security decided to perform a strip search. _When Honey told me to always wear clean underwear in case I got in an accident, I'm pretty certain this is_ _ **not**_ _what she meant_.

Finally discovering the location of his pants–the garment twirling around on the ceiling fan–the fox left off a sigh. He had no clue how they got up there but Wilde had no time to spare. After all, he had evidence to throw out the window as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I should have known this place wouldn't have any hot water..." the vixen murmured with a grimace as fingers quickly scrubbed the shampoo out of her hair; the sudsy mess collecting by the drain in a mass of foam. At best, she could get the shower's water to room-temperature... and that was STILL pretty damn cold!

Tilting her head back, the Latina red fox winced as the shower head rained down on her face, getting the last traces of shampoo fur gel out of it. _On the plus side, it does help one wake-up_ _ **fast**_ , she mentally admitted to herself. Her stomach was feeling less queasy as she was submitted to an unending frozen spray of icy-cold water.

Her hands reaching forward for the handle, the orange-pelted vulpine grasped the lever and turned it all the way to the right, shutting off the deluge of cold water. She trembled for a bit and involuntarily shuddered, trying to shake the liquid out of her pelt. "Maldición, eso es FRÍO!" She cried out in irritation as she pulled the sliding shower door open. She quickly stepped out onto the nice and fuzzy bath-mat, and grasped the bear-sized towel she had placed there before showering, the woman doing her best to use it to dry off.

Seeing her breath hanging in the air as she toweled herself down, the Latina vixen twitched; both in irritation and from how cold she was. "Jesús Cristo! I don't care how nice this place is, it's going to give me a cold at this rate," she grumbled irritably as she made her way over to the sink and turned on the hot water handle full blast.

At least the towel helped trap her body heat a little better than just wet water. And even better, it was **big**. She could have had to deal with a tiny towel that barely covered her nipples and her crotch like in all those TV shows. _Or like what Sly sometimes left me with when he was purposely late with doing the laundry_ , she thought with annoyance... and honestly, a little mirth. It was nice knowing he appreciated her fine figure, Miss Fox just wished he merely asked to join her in the shower rather than leaving her with itty-bitty washcloths!

Realizing that slightly above room-temperature was the best she was going to get from the tap-water, the vixen gave up. Slowly snaking her left hand out from the massive wrapping of ursine-sized towel, the Hispanic beauty reached for the complimentary took brush before her left came out to grasp the bottle of toothpaste.

In little time, the vulpine beauty had her teeth brushed and the horrible flavor of wet fur and copper completely replaced by the fluoride aftertaste of the hygiene product. She leaned forward, scrutinizing herself in the mirror, carefully trailing her tongue over the now smooth, pearly-whtet fangs of her smile. "Everything looks okay..." she murmured as she went about to get dressed in her panties and... Wilde's boxers.

Seriously, why the hell did they end up doing that?

Although the better question: when did they decide to get **naked** so they could do _**that**_!?

She had been so flabbergasted by everything that she hadn't noticed nor given a damn that Nick had seen her topless. "Then again, he's already seen me completely naked once..." she grumbled as she slipped the boxers on.

...

...She really needed to have him install a buzzer to the bathroom.

 _Well, it could have been worse_ , the Hispanic vixen surmised. She could have been, 'scratching an itch' when he walked in on her and he **really** didn't need him seeing her doing THAT.

Having Sly walk in on her doing that a number of times was too much to deal with as it was. _How many times did he sneak in on me doing that again? Eight? Sheesh, that stupid horny Ringtail_ , the vulpine woman thought to herself. The damn raccoon seemed to have a radar sense for when she was, 'in the mood'. Of course she never could quickly take care of herself and be done with it. The naughty nocturnal predator had to jump on her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Still, I have to give credit where credit's due..." she murmured quietly as she rewrapped herself in the towel. "I always felt loved while we were together." She looked over herself to make sure she was decent enough before exiting out of the bathroom to retrieve the rest of her clothes.

Needless to say, the Hispanic vulpine beauty went wide-eyed as she saw Nicholas standing on the ledge of the open window in only his tie a pair of pants. "WILDE!" She screamed out in shock, feeling her heart skipping a beat as he stood on the frost-covered windowsill in a precarious position. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?"

"GAH!" Nick yelped as he nearly lost his balance while dangerously balanced on the window-frame. Throwing himself backwards, the male red fox saved himself as he fell into the room, gasping out as the white garbage bag he'd been holding crashed atop his torso. Blinking his viridian eyes once, twice, the vulpine male tilted his head back, pressing his scalp to the floor as he looked towards the direction of the lovely Latina lady. "Oh... hey, Carm... have a nice shower?" The con-mammal queried, hoping he could cut her off from asking him any undue questions with one of his own.

Staring down at her fellow red fox, the woman slowly answered, "Not really. The water never got too hot but that's beside the point!" She pointed at the open window. "One: that's absolutely crazy to stand up there this high up. Two: why are you even trying to throw garbage out the window!?"

"...To save the hotel maids some effort," Nicholas said rather quickly before offering her a sly smile. "We kind of made a mess in our drunken stupor and never let it be said that Nicholas P. Wilde didn't take care of his messes!" After all, such was why he would turn around and sell the used pawpsicle sticks to Cheese Construction in Little Rodentia as cheap lumber. It was recycle, reduce, and reuse at its finest!

Making her way over to the downed male vulpine, Carmelita ignored her clothes scattered around the room and lifted the bag off from atop of Nick. Untying the knotted plastic drawstrings, the vixen raised an eyebrow as she saw the numerous bottles and empty boxes and wrappers in it. "...Well, at least you have it all gathered up," she murmured as she retied the plastic garbage bag. "But just leave it for the staff. Littering in a fined offense, you know!"

"Ah, right..." the male red fox chuckled softly as he shook his head a few times. "Well, it's not like I was throwing them away because I wanted to avoid getting murdered or anything! Ah ha ha ha ha... ha... ha..." he finished lamely, the man beginning to sweat as he realized what he just said aloud. "STUPID ALCOHOL!" He finally cursed aloud in growing frustration.

The off-duty policewoman raised one of her navy blue eyebrows in response to that rather incriminating statement. However, she decided against her better judgment of asking what he meant and instead began to give him a pep talk. "Nick, trust me, you'll be okay. We ate and drank all of that together. I think as long as I was involved, then Kozlov will give you a... pass..." she trailed off as the bag itself began to shimmer with an orange light in her vision. Realizing this had kicked off her Inspector's Intuition, the female vulpine released her towel and opened the bag once more. She began shuffling through the contents outright before homing in on the one item that was sparkling with an orange illumination.

An empty bottle of Royal DeMaria...

Her tail going flaccid, the woman's left ear tilted to the side and twitched. "...We drank a thirty-thousand dollar bottle of wine." It wasn't a question.

Cringing, the male fox turned himself over. When he was upright in a sitting position on the floor with his legs crossed, he politely corrected, "A thirty-thousand dollar bottle of _**ice**_ wine."

"...Well... I admit, that might be a tad harder to justify," Carmelita said as she stood straight up and involuntarily gulped. Dios bueno, how the hell were they going to justify this? Would Kozlov get too mad? Why was it suddenly chillier than before? Why was Nick blinking and smiling at her?

Seeing he had the woman's attention again, the crimson-pelted canid offered a little shrug. "Well, my boxers certainly look nicer on you than they do on me at least," the male vulpine commented. It seemed whenever things got tough, he did his best to laugh it off.

Rolling her chocolate eyes, the vixen groaned as she realized she had thrown off her towel in her haste to search for the source of the orange sparkles.

Gazing over the Hispanic beauty in bra and boxers, the pawpsicle hustler couldn't help but comment, "It's too bad though..."

That comment made Interpol Inspector blink her eyes curiously. "What? What's, 'too bad'?"

The vulpine male clucked his tongue for a moment, considering his words before he spoke. "... I'm not sure if it's the wine talking but it would have been a nicer situation to deal with if you _weren'_ t wearing a bra under that." As the woman stared, the fox offered a sheepish grin before he found himself buried under a wet towel that hit him in the face. The weight and sheer size of the bathing cloth caused the canid to crash to the floor.

"Hardy, har, har..." the vixen grumbled. Although the woman didn't say or even sow it, she _was_ thankful to Nick for breaking the spike in tension. "Hopefully we can get Kozlov to look at it as having paid off the, 'interest' for what he feels he owes me then?" She suggested.

The mass of white towel bobbed with the motion of the red fox underneath it nodding his head. " _That works_ ," came the man's muffled reply. Giving up the chance for a future favor sure as hell beat having his kneecaps or thumbs broken, that was for damn certain!

Nodding her head as a game-plan was formed, the vixen began to gaze around the room, searching for the rest of her outfit. "Now then... where are my pants?"

His paw sliding out from underneath the towel, the male vulpine motioned towards the chandelier that hung above the living room.

Turning about to catch sight of her denim pants tangled among the masterfully constructed crystalline display, the Latina's left navy blue eyebrow lifted up high enough to where it disappeared in her hairline. "...How the hell did my pants get all the way up there?"

" _Beats me_ ," Nick replied before he started to pull the mass of white terrycloth off of himself. Turning his head left and right to look for the lovely canid cop, he then told her more clearly, "At least you can take solace in the fact yours didn't end up on the ceiling fan like mine had! I was stuck dealing with a moving target!"

Turning her head to gaze back at her friend, the Hispanic vixen queried, "Why didn't you just turn the fan off?"

Wilde opened his mouth to reply... only for it to hang there silently. "..."

The Latina sighed at her fellow red fox's quiet state. "...You forgot you could do that, didn't you?"

Clamping his mouth shut, the crimson-pelted canid lowered his head as his blush managed to make its way through his fur. His face flush enough to where he looked more cherry in coloration, Nicholas couldn't help but grumble, "Stupid alcohol."

Shaking her head good naturedly, the off-duty policewoman told her friend, "Okay, I now I have to wonder... how did we end up _naked_ and not having sex if our clothes went everywhere like this?" The vixen knew this was going to bug her tremendously until she got an answer.

Tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, the con-mammal considered the woman's inquiry with interest. Such had been bothering him too–partly because while he was relieved he didn't get that far, it also saddened him slightly. "...Maybe we passed out before that happened?" Nick suggested before tilting his head to the side. "But that doesn't explain why I woke up wearing your underwear."

The female predator's left ear twitched as she considered that. "Well, we certainly didn't have sex. I'm not aching where I should... unless you're built like a rodent." She added as she began to make her way towards one of the couches, intent to climb up for a boost in height so she could get close enough to her garments.

The predatory mammal twitched slightly at being compared to a mouse where it wouldn't have counted. "Ouch. Et tu, Carmelita?" Nick asked as he theatrically threw both hands over his chest as if he'd been wounded. "I'll have you know that my little guy is now as, 'The Heart Breaker' for a reason!"

"No, that's what Sly's was," Carmelita replied as she stood on her tip toes and reached up, her fingers just missing the bottom hem of the jeans' left leg. She gritted her teeth and jumped up, grasping the pair of pants, intent to use her weight to pull it free...

...Only to end up swinging back and forth on the chandelier. "...Maldita sea..." she grumbled irritably at her slightly helpless state. On the plus side, at least her pants weren't tearing.

Tilting his head back, the male mammal stared up at his fellow red fox as she was held aloft by the ceiling decoration. "...Just how strong are those things?" Nick asked as Carmelita hung there for a few moments. "Seriously! I thought chandeliers were supposed to break off easily?" He stated firmly. "Aren't they fragile or something?"

Rolling her eyes, the woman sighed heavily as she slowly turned left and right and she remain suspended by the pant leg of her jeans. "It's not like what you see in the movies, Wilde. Frankly, with the types of animals that may stay here, this thing could probably hold up a polar bear's weight with ease," she replied honestly as she tugged on the pants, making herself bounce up and down as if she were on a bungee-cord...

...Which caused Nick's emerald eyes to happily follow the motion of her bouncing vixen tits. _And to think, I got to sleep between those_ , he thought with a bit of pride. Admittedly, he was surprised just how lax she was with certain norms. _Probably has to do with her being from Europe_ , he surmised. He could think of so many women that would have smacked him for doing that with them but the lovely Latina just such rolled with it, as if such were nothing at all.

Giving it a few more tugs, the woman growled as her pants refused to let go; they were really spun tight. Realizing, she wasn't getting her pants down any time soon at this rate, the woman growled irritably. "Damn it..." she mumbled under her breath. Grimacing, she then yelled aloud, "Nick! I need a favor!"

His ears rising up fully as his attention was piqued, the male vulpine quickly replied, "Yes?"

"Grab me a chair that I can stand on and brace it so it doesn't fall down." If the mammal had been a bit taller she might have asked him to be her chair... but then the Inspector immediately remembered how hard it was for him to even throw a _fork_ of all things and had second thoughts. "Better yet, would you please get one of the bar stools so I can stand on it?"

"Right, right..." the male fox replied as he made his way over to the kitchenette area where the length of bar counter was set up. Grasping firmly onto two of the four wooden pegs of the stool on the end of the row, the crimson-pelted canid began dragging it along the floor and into the carpeted area of the luxury suite's living room space.

Hanging by the left leg of her pants, the vixen frowned as she watched her fellow predator take his sweet ass time carting the stool over. Worse, she could tell he was actually trying to be quick about it! "Okay, seriously Wilde... we need to get you a Gym membership or something. I could have just lifted that seat up and carried it over faster than you dragged it," she grumbled irritably as he finally set it up by her feet, allowing her to stand up and no longer put all her weight on the decorative lighting fixture.

Watching as she settled her feet down atop the chair, the male canid placed his hands on his hips as he tilted his head back. "Hey now, I'll have you know that I work hard!" Nick said in all seriousness as the woman turned her focus back to her jeans, unwrapping it from around one of the chandelier's crystalline extensions. "I'm also the sort of man that prides himself in working smarter, not harder!" He was a fox, after all!

Pausing in her attempt to free her pants, the vixen turned her head to gaze down at her fellow red fox. "Funny. I didn't see anything smart about you nearly committing suicide in your attempt to dispose of _evidence_."

Twitching male vulpine took a step away from the woman again, taken aback by the snarky response. "...Evidence?" He squeaked out; both his ears flattening back against his skull. That sounded like police talk. _Accusatory_ police talk.

"Do you _**REALLY**_ think that Kozlov aka, 'Mr. Cold' wouldn't notice that bottle of wine missing when inventory was done later?" The Hispanic woman asked, trying to get the man to think about what he did logically.

"...Plausible deniability?" The male vulpine offered with a nervous smile as he twiddled with his tie between his index and middle fingers of his right paw. Now more than ever, he wished he knew what happened to his own shirt. He was feeling more than a little exposed from the combination of lack of clothes and the woman pointing cold, hard facts.

The vixen's lips pulled back across her muzzle in a small frown. "That excuse _might_ stand up in a court of law," the Latina woman admitted, the stool wobbling a little as she had to stand up on her tip-toes. Finally, when she pulled her pants free, the canid cop did her best to straighten them out, hoping that she hadn't overstretched and ruined them in her earlier attempt to untie them. "But do you really think someone like Mr. Kholodno would give a damn about what the law says? The same mammal who offered to _**hide dead bodies for me**_!?"

His tail going completely limp as his shoulders sagged, the male vulpine let off a little whimper. "I am never drinking this heavily around expensive things ever again."

The woman gave a small nod of her head, causing her navy blue tresses to bounce with the motion. "I agree," Carmelita agreed before letting off a little groaned. While she had her pants back, the woman still had no idea how they ended up naked. It wasn't like they were...

"Say, Nick..." the female red fox began slowly as she continued to pull on the denim material to smoothen out the wrinkles it got from having been wrapped.

His ears slowly rising up atop his head once more, the canid con-mammal chirruped, "Yes?"

"A thought occurred to me," she stated in all seriousness. "Are there any cards or something that would hint at us having played a game last night?" She asked as she lowered herself to sit on the bar stool. "Because we might have played strip poker."

"...Drunk strip poker?" Nick deadpanned, getting a nod from her. "...You've done that before?"

That got a shake of the head in response. "No, but it always sounded fun," the vulpine woman replied as she did her best to get to get dressed in her pants. She frowned as she saw that yes, she stretched the left leg out a bit as the heel of her foot was getting caught in the opening but it wasn't _too_ bad. "A turn through the washer and dryer will fix this right up..." she murmured to herself before sliding off the stool to pull the jeans up a bit higher around her waist.

Turning about and walking away from the woman he had shared a bed with last night, the male red fox's emerald eyes began to scan about the room, looking for playing cards or anything like that. He was certain he would have come across something like that earlier when he was gathering up all the garbage to chuck out the window. "I have a better question though: we're finding our pants but where are our _**shirts**_? I came across your jacket; it's where you left it last night," he motioned to it being draped on the back of one of the white chairs in the living room. "But I have still yet to come across our actual tops."

Taking a moment to button her jeans, the Latina vulpine made her way back towards the bedroom. She came around to the side of the bed and gently kicked forward with her bare foot, frowning as the bed was solid against the floor. "Well, that was my first guess." She pulled the pillows back and shook her head. "Nope."

Having followed the vixen into the sleeping quarters, the male mammal raised an eyebrow as he watched the lovely lady give the furniture a kick; smart enough to not put much force into it for the sake of her toes. "Why did you kick it?"

"Because most beds where I'm from aren't reinforced to the floor... Though, again, it makes sense all things considered." Carmelita frowned. She didn't recall seeing her turtle-neck in the bathroom, which she was admittedly thankful for. Knowing her luck, it and her socks would have been in the toilet and the floor would be soaked for some reason.

She let out a soft, exasperated sigh. _Stupid Police Academy hazing rituals_ , she thought with more than a little annoyance.

Fortunately, at least her boots were on a chair in the bedroom. Walking over to and picking them up, the vixen turned about and settled herself into the comfy piece of furniture before taking a moment to slide her right foot in–pausing as her toes began to crimp from a blockage. "And there's the socks..." she murmured as she took the boot off and reached her hand inside, pulling free the small bit of white foot garment.

Standing by the entrance to the sleeping area Nick slowly tilted his head, watching curiously as the vixen was covering her feet. "Say, Carm?" He chirruped, leaning into the door-frame let him lazily keep his posture upright as he crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"Hmm?" Inspector Fox chirruped, still working on covering her right foot. Wiggling her toes inside of her sock, the Latina woman then began to slide her right foot into the boot with ease. "What is it, Nicholas?"

"I've actually been curious about this for a while. Just _why_ do you use footwear anyhow? Is that a thing outside of Zootopia? I mean, yeah I know such exists for certain occupations like the police department and firefighters but outside of job safety? About the only woman I've seen actually wear them regularly besides you has been Gazelle." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Just what is the big deal with them?"

The vixen frowned. It was simply a norm outside of the Zoonited States. Different cultures, different needs and all that... why there was even parts of Japan where they ONLY wore shoes and gloves! Still, he was asking about her personally so she replied, "Well, for one thing, they're durable and boots in particular don't wear out when I'm on my feet for ten hours or more a day." So saying, the vixen began to put on her other sock. "For another, well, have you ever been South of the Frost Line?" Seeing her fellow fox's confused look, she sighed. "Places where snow is so rare that the local governments shut everything down when more than three flakes touch the ground," she explained.

"Oh!" The male fox yelped, now understanding what she meant. "Um... to be honest, no," he replied. Having lived in Zootopia all his life, he was used to the excess of climate control year round. A mammal went to the District whose weather they felt like experiencing at the time or if they had to be there for one reason or another. "Why do you ask?"

"Parasites live in the ground and they dig through the pads of your paws and into your body down there," the Hispanic beauty said in all seriousness. "Good footwear is the only thing keeping you from needing a veterinarian visit." The vulpine woman then slid her other boot to emphasize the point.

Nick went wide-eyed before tilting his head forward to look down at his own bare feet. "I suddenly feel very, very _naked_..." he murmured. Not that he had anything against nudity. He was a card-carrying member of the Mystic Oasis for a reason. He never could get Finnick to join but Wilde supposed it was nice to make contacts of his own wherever he could. Gouda All-Bitey knew he got that Otterton fellow hooked on their pawpsicles.

Again, just like with the frat houses on the colleges campuses, those Naturalists on mind-enhancers just loved artificial cherry flavoring.

However, before the male vulpine could reminisce about his experiences letting everything hang wild and free, both red foxes blinked their eyes as the sound of ringing buzzed through the air. Turning their heads, the pair of red foxes gazed upon the desk in the room. There, the vixen's phone vibrated while Nick's lay there next to hers; the man's cell shut off. Pushing herself off from the chair, the Hispanic beauty made her way over to the desk and grasped her cell phone in her right hand. Turning it over, she slid her left index finger over the front of the screen before bringing it to the side of her head. "Hola?" She greeted. "This is Carmelita. Who is this?"

" _Hello_ ," a female voice spoke over the cell's earpiece. " _This Room-Service calling. We have your laundry ready. May we drop it off?_ "

The vixen blinked her chocolate-colored eyes once, twice. "Laundry?" She queried, her curiosity piqued.

" _Yes, a pair of shirts_."

The Inspector's brown-eyed gaze went wide. "Oh! Thank you! Sure, bring them right up! Again, thank you so much." She pressed a button on the front of the screen with her thumb, disconnecting the call as she looked over to Wilde. "Apparently our shirts were sent to the hotel's laundry service."

That made the crimson-pelted canid stare at the female vulpine in shock. They needed to have laundry done too!? "...Just _**WHAT**_ the hell did we do last night!?" Nick asked, clearly exasperated by all of this. "Next thing you know, we'll find out we purchased and launched a Cold War missile and ended the night with blowing up someone's car!"

Carmelita scoffed at the man's exaggeration. "Oh please! If I fired a missile, it would blow up more than just _**one**_ car." She paused, genuinely considering some of her past exploits. "In fact, a whole parking garage would be more accurate..." she murmured as an afterthought.

The male red fox couldn't help but begin to sweat at such a statement. "Should I turn on the news and see if that happened or not?" He would like a heads up if he needed to get the heck out of Zootopia and lay low for a while... maybe he could head North to Canada...

The orange-pelted vixen blinked her bright brown eyes. "No. Not yet, anyway. I don't want to deal with anything until I've had a chance to get dressed and eat," she managed to reply before a knock was heard at the door. A very loud, firm repetition of knocking to be precise. "Hopefully that's our laundry..." she murmured softly as she looked over towards Nick. "Say, Wilde... would you be kind enough to get the? I'd rather not go flashing my bra to anyone."

The male snorted at the woman's display of feminine modesty. "Oh please! I ended up using your tits as a pillow last night. What's so bad about—GOING! I'M GOING!" He yelped, bringing his hands up in a warding manner as the gaze the vixen leveled at him was held the promise of absolute murder.

So doing as told and carefully backing out of the bedroom, the male red fox turned about and ran to the front door, pumping his little foxy legs as fast as he could manage in an attempt to save himself from the annihilation of a woman scorned. Once he was there, the canid con-mammal jumped up and grasped the door handle; using his weight to pull it down and unlock the door as left foot pressed against the frame and pushed it open.

Dropping down from the doorknob to quickly grab the ledge of the wooden barrier to hold it open, Nick was surprised to see the _biggest_ , **burliest** polar bear he'd ever seen...

...in a dainty French Maid's outfit.

"Hello," said manly polar bear spoke out in the most surprisingly feminine voice that was laced with the thickest, sultriest Russian accent that the tod had ever heard. "I have laundry delivery for a Miss Fox." As she said that, she held up two white-bagged bundles by their coat hangers.

Relaxing a little, the male vulpine nodded his head in acceptance as he replied, "Yeah, that would be us. Miss Fox is inside getting her shoes on."

The Maid lowered her hand, offering the bagged garments to him. "Here you go." As he took hold of the two laundry-bagged garments, she couldn't help but tell him, "If I may be honest? It was a new experience, having to clean Royal DeMaria out of shirts. Foxes must be very rich to be able to afford using entire bottle for showering."

"..."

"...Sir, why is you crying?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I can't believe we wasted thirty-thousand **dollars**!" Nick wailed as he walked down the hallway alongside the taller vixen; both canids now fully dressed in their proper attire. "What the hell was I _**thinking**_!?"

"More like how drunk were we that you thought to use _**THAT**_ to perform a wet t-shirt contest between us..." the vixen replied as she stayed in step with her fellow vulpine, her hand rubbing his back in a sympathetic fashion. "Fortunately, I think it's safe to say that Kozlov is laughing his ass off over this and he'll overlook the whole thing..." she then shrugged. "Although I can't say it'll do anything to help your reputation around here."

The male fox turned his head to look at his female friend. "You mean **ou** r reputation," he corrected, reminding the woman that she helped him waste said fine vintage.

"No, just yours," the woman insisted as she motioned the large outer ring that was still stained into her dark blue turtle-neck shirt. "According to the circumference and angle of this, you were the one who blasted me with the bottle!" She pouted. "Same stain outline nearly matches the pattern left on my bra too."

Looking down at her garment she was mostly keeping out of sight with her jacket, the male vulpine chirruped, "Really?"

Nodding her head, Carmelita explained, "I was top of my class in Ballistics Studies during my Academy Days training for Interpol." Come to think of it, she was top of her class in any study that involved firearms, period.

His shoulders sagging, Nick lowered his head and groaned in abject defeat. "I am so boned."

"Look at it this way," the Latina beauty said in all seriousness; the smile on her face absolutely devious. "You have now officially upgraded your status from, 'Cheap Date' to 'Expensive Date'..." she smiled and moved her hand up enough to gently poke his shoulder. "So expect your potential future significant others to want you to put out after the first date."

Rolling his eyes, the male vulpine groaned at the thought. If word got out about that, then it was certain ladies down the road would expect the same in return. "Great... I'm going to need a way to earn more money then," the pawpsicle hustler grumbled irritably.

Returning her right hand to rubbing her friend's shoulder to help ease his tension, the vixen gently cooed, "Oh there, there Wilde." Her fingers carefully ground into the muscle through his viridian Hawaiian shirt, trying to help ease his worries. "You will always be a cheap beer and pizza date to me."

Raising an eyebrow, the male vulpine turned his head to look at his fellow red fox. "Well, well... it appears someone's feeling a lot better." She had to be if she was coming up with such quips on the fly.

The woman nodded her head firmly. "And how," Carmelia agreed, relief evident to her voice. "No joke; I felt like I wanted to throw my guts up this morning. Ironically, that cold shower I hated really helped ease my body's tension."

Nodding his head in understanding, the male fox continued to walk down the hallway of the hotel floor, his emerald eyes darting back and forth at the rather white attire from both its snowy foundation and the choice of decorations. "You know, we should be thankful for one thing..." he began slowly, a smile creeping its way across his muzzle.

"What should we be thankful for?" The vixen queried. She then raised an eyebrow, looking at her fellow fox curiously as he suddenly started to snicker. "What's so funny?"

The smirk on his face now a full blown grin, the troublesome tod offered, "At least we only wanted our shirts washed. Imagine if we needed to have all our clothes cleaned!"

"...This morning would have made this morning a lot more awkward." Carmelita started to laugh at it though, finding the humor in such a situation. "Especially," the lovely Latina went on to continue for him. "You had to answer the door in my undies."

Finally coming to a stop before the elevator doors to so the pair of foxes could make their way back to the ground floor, the male vulpine brought his left hand up, using his index finger to press the down button. He then turned his attention back to his friend fully before he wagged that same finger at the lovely lady. "To be fair, I did find my tie... this thing can be a, 'banana-hammock' in case of an emergency."

Raising her right eyebrow up high enough that it disappeared into her mane of navy blue tresses, the vixen chirruped, "Que? Sounds like someone is speaking from experience..."

The answer she got came forth not from who Miss Fox was expecting. "You got that right," a deep baritone voice called out from the now open set of elevator doors. "I remember this one time Wilde literally got tarred and feathered when the locals thought some ice packs we made were sub-par. Only thing he had to save his dingle-dongle was his tie."

"Finnick!" Both foxes spoke up, turning to look about to see their friend standing there in the elevator car, arms crossed over his chest and looking like a little badass–especially with the sunglasses he had on. It was Wilde then went on to continue greeting, "Glad to see you're doing okay! What brings you up here?" He didn't think the fennec would have qualified for one of the luxury suites, even with Cherry as a reference.

Smirking, the desert fox brought his right paw up to the side of his head and tilted down his Ray-Bunny sunglasses, exposing his orange-amber eyes to his partner in semi-crime. "What do you think I'm doing here? I heard from the boys downstairs that you got the Presidential Luxury Suite, Wilde! Now let's go and raid that mini-bar!"

"No." Both Carmelita and Nick replied at the same time; the vixen raising her hand for a moment to catch the elevator door before it could close.

Crossing his arms over his chest in as an intimidating fashion as his tiny frame could manage, the petite predator frowned as he glared up at his partner. "And why not? I thought you guys were getting this, 'all expenses paid' as it were? You should be making the most out of those expenses for crying out loud!"

Watching as the vixen lowered her arm again, Nicholas then carefully began to explain, "We would but there's nothing left to raid."

The tiny tod blinked his eyes once, twice. "What do you mean there's nothing left to raid!?" The fennec cried out in aggravation, demanding an answer. As the doors started to close a second time, he brought himself up between them and pushed outwards with his arms as powerfully as his little body could manage. "Seriously! **Nothing**!?"

Thumbing over to the taller male, the Hispanic vixen bluntly replied, "He went as far as to use wine for a wet t-shirt contest apparently."

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Finnick screamed in horror... before a realization hit him like a sack of bricks. This would have been the min-bar for the _presidential luxury suite_. " **OH MY GOUDA, HOW EXPENSIVE**!?"

Looking down at the smaller predator, the male vulpine sighed in a tired fashion. Oh, he knew the little guy was _not_ going to like this. "Thirty-thousand dollars a glass expensive," Nick replied. He then grimaced, ears flattening against his scalp to protect his hearing as Finnick let out a high pitched scream he didn't think was possible.

Her own ears disappearing within her expanse of navy tresses as they flattened against her skull, the Hispanic woman had to tell her fellow red fox, "Now don't be mean, Nicholas. It wasn't thirty-thousand a glass."

Finnick's squeal started to lessen... yes, he continued it but the actual level of shrill started to ease up.

"Just the whole bottle," the woman then explained, as if that made the situation better.

The desert fox's shrieking increased back to its prior decibel level.

Frowning as the smaller vulpine continued to wail as if it were the end of the world, the canid cop shook her head in annoyance. Slowly, she turned her attention back to the man in a viridian Hawaiian shirt. "You would think this never happened to him before," Carmelita murmured irritably.

Such merely elicited a shrug from the tie-adorned con-mammal. "What can I say? He and I have never been that drunk before," Wilde replied as he continued to keep his ears flat to drown out the cries of his smaller business partner. Turning his attention back to the small, wailing waif of a badass, Nick then tried to speak up loud enough to make sure the desert fox could hear him. "Easy, easy now! Seriously, ease up on the screaming, Zerdan!"

Cringing as the tiny carnivore continued to wail at the unfairness of life in general, Carmelita couldn't help but comment, "For such a tiny guy, he has quite the set of lungs." Really, the reason for his normally baritone voice now made **a lo** t more sense to her.

Nodding his head in agreement, the male canid told the perplexed vulpine woman, "I always assumed eighty-percent of his body mass was said lungs!" Walking up beside his partner, he tried to get him to stop screaming by bribing him with a promise of free food. "Hey, Zerdan? If you stop screaming, Carmelita will use her newfound position of Patron Saint of the Kholodno Bratva to buy you breakfast!"

" **I AM NOT THE PATRON SAINT OF THE KHOLODNO BRATVA**!" The vixen screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling outright scandalized. Good God, she hoped no one in the ZPD found out about this, let alone her parents!

"...This had better be the best damn breakfast ever or I'm screaming so loudly that bulletproof glass will shatter," he threatened angrily. Obviously, he wasn't taking his partner's comment about the woman's standing amongst Tundratown all that seriously. His skepticism was understandable; he had known Wilde to blow smoke out his ass before–particularly with their customers–and the fennec had been caught off-guard by it before. "Especially since you wasted a thirty fudgin' grand bottle of booze for a wet t-shirt contest!"

With a grin spreading across his muzzle, Nicholas waved his hand airily in a light-hearted fashion. "Now, Finnick, have I ever lied to you? Don't answer that," the male vulpine quickly added as the smaller fox went to open his mouth to interject. "What I should say is, have I ever lied when it came to a meal?"

The tiny tod actually needed to takea moment to think about it. "...No, I'll give you that," he said as he held his hands out once more, pushing back the elevator doors as they tried to close once again. "When you say we're going out to eat, then we're going out to eat..." he murmured before glaring. "Except for last night! You owe me breakfast **AND** a pizza!"

"Sorry, Mr. Zerdan. We ate all the pizza," the lovely Latina apologized, causing Finnick to stare at her in shock. "Hey now, don't look at me like that. Nick ate it cold."

As the accusatory glare of the angered canid carnivore shifted his way, Wilde merely shrugged in a noncommittal way. "What can I say? Pizza is pizza... and I only remember eating the second half. The good Patron Saint of the Kholodno..." he smiled as he could hear Carmelita growl. "And I finished the first half last night during out drunken stupor!" He wagged his eyebrows as he added, "And let me tell you: girl can eat!"

Gritting her teeth at the man's blatantly false statements, the woman decided that if Nick was going to tease her, she could get him right back. Her clenched fangs slowly turned into a massive grin. "Yes, too bad we ended up getting too drunk. Otherwise you might have remembered what you did to get into my panties."

And just like that, Finnick's jaw dropped. Stepping out of the elevator and letting the door close behind him properly, he gawked at the two of them, his mind barely able to comprehend what she was saying. "You... you..." he started to stammer, raising his right hand to point an accusatory finger at his partner-in-con artistry. Seeing the taller fox begin to blush, the large-eared fox grinned. "You lucky son of a..." he trailed off, realizing he shouldn't say that–such would be an insult to Francine. "And you can't remember!?"

"Nope!" Carmelita continued before the male fox in question could get a word in edgewise. "It was such a shock to wake up this morning and realize he had gotten into my panties that I'm still trying to figure out how it happened. My pants were on the ceiling, for crying out loud!" Turning her head to her friend, the vixen then goaded, "Go on, Nick. Tell him. Tell your friend all about how you got into my panties. I'm sure you _might_ remember..."

The pawpsicle hustler twitched considerably. Okay, it was a relief that she hadn't fully sold him out but Carmelita was _really_ playing with fire on this one. If Finnick learned the truth, the little bastard would never **ever** let him live it down! "...Now, now Finny... you should know by now that a gentlemammal like myself _**never**_ kisses and tells!"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the small desert fox didn't seem all that appeased by the taller vulpine's response. "Oh, come on! You can tell me! I mean, I'm your best buddy!" When Nick just stared at him, the petite predator snorted. Ah well, he would hear the details later when they weren't a think anymore. Now that Wilde got into her panties, his relationship with her was doomed for failure! Such was the way of the world: fish swam, birds flew, and Wilde ruined relationships with bad sex.

"So, about breakfast..." Carmelita started, wanting to get the group moving. She was starting to feel hungry. "Shall we be on our way?"

Turning his attention from his illegitimate business partner, the smaller vulpine looked up at the much taller, lovelier, and curvaceous vixen. "Depends... you actually buying?" He asked curiously. Watching her raise an eyebrow in response, the sandy-furred fox quickly pointed out, "Hey now! You promised me dinner last night and I never got to cash in on it. Besides, this place has a nice restaurant to use..." he smiled. "Hawaiian themed too!"

"Oh?" The Interpol Inspector chirruped, now a tad curious. "They serve Hawaiian-themed cuisine in an Arctic resort? Does that mean they have... pork?" She queried in a hopeful tone. Honestly, if they did, the off-duty policewoman would have been completely willing to overlook this small lapse in Kozlov's legitimization issues.

Shaking his head, the small fox replied, "Of course not. But we can get these delicious pineapple syrup-glazed tofu cubes!"

"..." _I so need to start a, 'Free The Bacon' movement_ , the Latina vixen thought bitterly. If she was the sort that followed online multi-media platforms, she would have so been pushing a hash-tag for such the first day she arrived. "Well then, let's go?" She finally asked the pair as she reached up to hit the down button for the elevator once more. With having to talk to Finnick, they had lost the opportunity to use the shaft that turn.

It took maybe a solid minute but eventually the elevator car returned; the trio making their way into cabin area. It might not have been ice, but the crystalline look and air conditioning within made it feel like such. "Maybe we should have taken the stairs?" She asked, doing her press to suppress the shiver the chill of the space was trying to induce in her.

Although he found the elevator ride to be cold as well, Nick merely snorted. "From this floor? No thank you, my dear Inspector Fox. I've gotten enough exercise over the past two days to justify living as a couch potato for the next **week**!"

Nodding his head in agreement, the petite predator standing beside his taller vulpine partner let off a little grunt of annoyance. "Damn straight! As much as I love making money, I might just use the rest of this week to hang out and chill–that is, relax and not continue to freeze." Turning his gaze to look up at the lovely vixen, he told her, "No offense Carm but after getting shot in the ass, I need a few days to recuperate." Particularly the kind that included being pampered by a loving girlfriend.

"That's quite understandable," the Hispanic vulpine replied earnestly. Looking down at the tiny carnivore in return, the vixen tilted her head to get a better look at him. "Tell me, how did it go afterwards? The polar bears separated us and we never saw what happened to you, the sisters, or little Morris."

"Actually, it went better than I thought it would," the fennec admitted. "They mostly just asked us some questions since we were there. You know, simple things like, 'You see anything? Don't say anything to those who don't need to know and you'll be fine'. You know, stuff like that." Finnick then shrugged. Really, when it came to dealing with any mafia, he considered this one of the best likely outcomes for getting caught in a turf scuffle.

Nodding her head as she mentally filed away what the smaller man said, the vixen looked up at the elevator. They still had a few floors to go. "So, important question for you two: how are we getting home? Do we take a cab back to Largo's Pizza or do you think they'll give us a ride there for our, 'protection'?" It wasn't like they could just leave Mr. Zerdan's '71 Ford Lobos there. She could only imagine how many parking tickets it had collected by now.

A small smirk spread across the tiny tod's muzzle. "Don't worry about that. I already checked in with security," Finnick told her seriously. "Tell me, do you remember the big guy with the slightly melted face?" He dragged his right index finger alongside the side of his face beside his eye for emphasis.

The woman nodded, remember Kozlov's Head of Security all too well; he'd been one of the few polar bears that had been there for the sit down she and Nick had with the Snow Palace resort's owner. "Yes, I know Vinsent," the Inspector verbally answered. "What is he doing for us?"

Straightening up, the small fox explained, "Well, about that? He had a few of his men go down to Little Italy to tow the van all the way to the hotel. They had Cherry and I come down last night to check it out for ourselves to make sure everything was in order. We can leave anytime we're ready–after you pay for us to eat of course!" He said, making it well know he intended to get a free meal out of this, come hell or high water!

Nodding her head, the Latina vixen replied, "Yeah, it will get paid for all right." She sighed as she reflexively brought her hand up to her chest, to the ring she had hidden underneath her top and nestled within her cleavage. Honestly, she just wanted to get it off of her person and put somewhere safe as soon as possible. She doubted it would help her reputation in Zootopia if she was seen with a signet ring of a well-known Russian mafia group.

Finally, after a long journey down, the elevator finally came to a stop and the three vulpines were able to disembark. Making their way across the ground floor and amongst the tourists–nearly all Arctic mammals–-the trio soon found themselves in the adult dining area of the hotel, the small resting area a pentagon shape that broke off into four distinct restaurants. "Holy Gouda! There's so much!" Nick gaped in shock as his eyes were drawn in particular to restaurant with blacked out windows, curtain doors, and pink neon lights... reminding him a lot of a strip club.

Ignoring her fellow red fox's wandering gaze, Carmelita blinked her eyes as she looked out towards the entrance of the restaurant whose sign declared it to be the, 'Polar Luau Lounge'. In particular, the woman's gaze went to giant Tiki Heads at either side carved completely out of ice at either side of it. "...This place really is a Summer Resort for Arctic animals..." she murmured as she kept in step with her foxy friends, whose eyes were now drawn to the buffet tables in plain view that were stocked to overflowing with all kinds of foodstuffs.

"That and they have an open bar with cash options," the petite vulpine excitedly informed, taking a moment to smack his lips at the sight of all the food. "You can get all the fruity alcoholic mixed drinks you want during breakfast hours... although you still need to pay for any other types of drinks." The way he brought that tidbit up without any visual indicators was a sign that the mammal as speaking from experience.

Clapping his hands together, Nick couldn't help but murmur in replied, "I might not be a praying mammal but I am thankful for the bounty I am about to receive in liquid refreshment." In particular, the fox felt he could really go for a Bloody Mary right about now...

Raising her left eyebrow high enough that it disappeared into the navy blue tresses of her hair, the lovely Latina couldn't help but point out, "You want more? But you drank like a fish last night!" Honestly, she was worried the mammal would begin to pickle his liver at the rate he was downing them!

Despite the woman's protests, the con-mammal was not to be deterred! "And a fresh drink will flush out the last of this hangover," he said in all seriousness as the trio made their way up to the podium where a male polar bear in a red Hawaiian shirt with a surprisingly similar pattern to Wilde's was stationed. "Hey, good buddy! You got a table for three?" He held up his right paw, wiggling a trio of fingers at the ursine for emphasis.

Bending over and causing his neck muscles to straight against the collar of his shirt, the ursine looked down at his map setting before nodding his head. "Yeah. We've got a table in the Southwest corner or you can just sit at the bar, your choice," the polar bear explained to the tinier carnivore. "We have more than enough room around here but heads up. If you want alcohol with your breakfast, then you have to be at the bar."

"The bar," both vulpine men answered in sync as the vixen shook her head good naturedly.

Nodding his head once again at the exuberance both male foxes displayed, the polar predator was about to wave them forward, when he realized something. "Hey, wait a minute... don't I know you?" He gazed over the three, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized the canid trio. "You're the three that got brought in last night, right?"

Feeling a little self-conscious, it was the policewoman that spoke for the group. "Yes, sir. I take it you heard about that?" Considering how excited Kozlov had been to see her, she wouldn't have put it past the man to spread the word across the resort.

Letting off a chuckle that reverberated in his wide chest, the large white-pelted ursine calmly answered, "Sure did. The boss mentioned you might be coming by. Go on; head to the bar. Drinks are on the house, as is your meal. Enjoy." He waved his left arm out to the side, motioning for them to enter. "Derek will be your bartender. He'll get your drinks settled and you can go up and get whatever you want from the buffet."

His large ears pointing straight up, Finnick's eyes widened as a smile tugging at the corners of his face. They were getting free food and drink? "Sweet buttery ham-flavored tofu!" The fennec cried out, eliciting a look of confusion from the others. "I'm going to eat like a king!" The petite predator cackled out as he rushed inside, his tail wagging behind him.

Quickly following after his, 'little buddy'–even if it were suicide to call him such aloud–to make sure he didn't get into any trouble, Nick couldn't help but call out to him, "I thought we were going to eat like kings anyway?"

Coming to a stop by the bar, the tiny tod turned about to face his semi-business partner. "Yeah but now we don't have to pay the forty bucks a person to do so!" He smirked and motioned to the Latina beauty who was walking towards them at a far more sedate pace. "And this means she STILL owes me a meal!"

Smirking as he caught up to his pal, Wilde leaned close to the short vulpine, quietly whispering, "Trust me. Miss Patron Saint is the reason they're letting us eat here free." As the trio finally gathered together before the bar, the male red fox's eyes settled on a set of three open chairs that happened to be lined up next to one another amongst the throngs of ones currently occupied by the wide posteriors of polar bears. Smirking, the con-mammal's emerald eyes gazed down at the smaller male fennec. "Need a boost, little man?"

Finnick growled at hearing that comment aimed towards his height. "I should hit you for that."

His smile widening even further across his muzzle, Nichols chirruped, "But do you?"

The sandy-furred fennec's big floppy ears flattened back against his skull, the tips nearly touching the floor as they did. "...Yes..." the smaller vulpine murmured in annoyance as he held his arms up for his pal to grab him... only to be surprised as it was the lovely vixen that picked up him from behind instead.

"Here you go, muchacho," Carmelita told the petite predator as she carefully set him down on the seat, being mindful of the gunshot wound on his posterior. Once he was safely settled, the Hispanic vulpine woman then took her place on the cushioned stool in the middle, leaving the swivel seat on her left open for her fellow red fox.

A polar bear in white dress shirt with black vest and tie with a nametag that read, 'Derek' turned to the new set of faces that were parked before the counter-top. "So what will it be? And how old is this kid?" The bartender asked while looking Finnick over. Seeing the angry glare he got in return, the white-pelted ursine just shrugged. "Listen, pal... I've worked plenty of bars in my time. Lots of cubs try to pass themselves off as adults simply because their breeds are small and they have deep voices."

Taking a deep breath, the desert fox huffed in annoyance as he carefully shifted his weight on his butt, grunting as he put more pressure on his recovering cheek than he would have liked. Slowly, he withdrew his wallet and his driver-license.

Taking the form of ID from him, the polar bear lifted it up to his eye level, needing to squint his gaze so he could read the writing on the laminated card that was tinier than he would have preferred. His eyes then widened suddenly, the man blinking his icy blue orbs. "Thirty-three? Seriously!? You don't look a day over _**three**_ -years-old!"

An angry growl reverberated in the tiny fennec's throat. "...Just give me a Midori Sour and make it a double!"

Chuckling at his partner's irritation, Nick was quick to chirrup his order. "I'll take a Bloody Mary, please!"

Shaking her head, Carmelita sighed. "I still can't believe you want _more_ to drink after all we ended up downing last night."

Giving the woman a helpless shrug of his shoulders in response, Wilde reiterated, "It's like I told you earlier: one of the best ways to flush a hangover is with fresh booze the next day, as long as you don't go overboard."

Considering that for a moment, the female vulpine turned her chocolate gaze towards the larger Arctic predator behind the bar. "Could I please get a Mimosa?" She could at least _appear_ to be drinking a healthy fruit juice with her breakfast.

"How much champagne do you want in that? Half-glass or minimal?" The bartender asked as he grabbed glasses for the Bloody Mary and the Midori Sour. The glass for the Bloody Mary was the size of a typical drinking glass the restaurant served soda in while he grabbed a goblet that was as tall as Finnick for the fennec's Midori Sour.

"Well I... er..." the female red fox trailed off as she stared at the second glass before the bartender started mixing the melon liquor, citrus soda, and sour whiskey together in of said goblet. "...That's a big glass."

The large ursine booze-slinger merely gave a shrug of his shoulders. "He said he wanted a double, I plan on making it a double."

Finnick perked up as he saw that. "I am NOT going to be able to drive after drinking that." He said before cackling in glee.

The larger predator nodded his head in agreement with the petite fox's assessment. "Especially since this is only the shaking glass," Derek replied as he set the fine drink for the tiny predator down on the counter-top. He then bent over and reached underneath the bar-top, before retrieving a chilled tiki drinking glass... a drinking glass that, after a moment of inspection, the foxes realized were carved ice.

They were getting the _**GOOD**_ glasses.

As the mammal filled it with the fennec's Midori Sour, it became rather obvious there was room for even more of said drink. After all, these special tiki ice cups were sized for **polar bears**.

The smile that blossomed across Mr. Zerdan's muzzle then began to mix another Midori Sour in the goblet threatened to envelope his entire head.

Staring at ice cup larger than his head that was shaped to have a wide smile, the male red fox gulped a bit nervously. Slowly turning his attention towards the bartender, he told the lager predator, "No offense but I don't think I could handle one that big."

"No worries little man," the bartender replied in a cordial fashion. "I wasn't going to. Like you said, you just want something to flush out your hangover." Pouring the second Midori sour into the tiki cup, he added, "Although I recommend you try drinking some Stripe or other carbonated soda over alcohol for that."

That made the male vulpine blink his eyes. "Oh really now?" Nick asked, genuinely curious. "Why do you say that?"

As he reached for the jar of maraschino cherries, the bear explained, "You're dehydrated. That's part of what gives a mammal a hangover in the first place." The bartender shook his head as he put a few cherries atop of Finnick's drink before retrieving a long twisty straw. Sticking the colorful plastic with loops into the tiki mask-adored ice cup, he told the desert fox, "And you! Don't complain. I don't have straws long for these glasses except for these ones."

Nodding his head, Finnick replied, "I have no complaints, my good mammal!" He chirruped as he stood atop the seat and reached up with his right paw. He then brought the straw to his lips, taking a long, _**LONG**_ drag to fill his maw with the sweet and sour alcoholic drink.

Raising an eyebrow as he sipped at length, the vixen looked to the male on her right as she told him, "You really should get a plate of food together before you start drinking that. You might not be able to get back up and down on your stool at this rate." Let alone he was likely to fall off as he became inebriated.

"I suggest something that will stick with you. Pretzels are NOT the way to go." The bartender shook his head as he looked at a few of his fellow Arctic predators that were hogging the bowl of complimentary salted snacks. "French fries are far better in that regard," he added as he grasped a bottle of tomato juice.

The male vulpine's eyes were drawn to the glass bottle the polar predator twisted the top off of. "Is that the reason that there's usually a grill by a bar?" Nick asked as the bartender made his Bloody Mary, getting the vodka poured into the glass.

"Yep," Derek replied as he stuck a lengthy piece of celery into the drink and began stirring with it. "However, this is the _breakfast_ buffet. We don't have any French fries available right now." He then pushed the drinking glass towards the smaller predator, telling him, "However, this is the Polar Luau Lounge... we serve a lot of traditional Hawaiian and Polynesian treats around the clock that are chock-full of starch and grease... such as the Kalua sweet potatoes. The banana leaf wraps keep the moisture in and give it almost the right amount of grease-like feel."

Watching as the man dropped a tiny umbrella into his drink to top it off, the crimson-pelted canid blinked his eyes. "That... I'll take that under advisement. So, it's the usual breakfast foods staples and some exotic treats?" He queried as she pulled his drink closer to him and began sipping on the straw. _Ahh... so good_ , he thought with relief.

The large mammal behind the bar let off a little grunt in response before turning his attention to the lovely vixen that had been staying quiet. "Indeed. Now then, Miss? You never got back to me, do you want your drink mixed with the regular amount of alcohol or not?"

The woman mulled over her thoughts for a bit before eventually nodding her head. "Yeah, I'll go lighter with only a touch of alcohol. If there's nothing at all, then a Mimosa is just orange juice..." she trailed off with a grin as her two friends stared at her. "I can't help it. I don't drink often but when I do, I go for champagne..." she then looked over to her fellow red fox in particular and smirked. "So yes, last night was more of a once-in-a-lifetime event. I don't think you and I are going to go drinking that heavily again if I have anything to say about it."

"Duly noted," the male vulpine replied, showing the woman he had no problem with that. When you blacked out enough that you used thirty-grand ice wine for a wet t-shirt contest of merely two people–and only one mammal had the rack worth it–that was going over the line! Oh sweet Gouda, how Nick wished that he knew what the stuff tasted like! The opportunity gone! Still, he could admit one thing. "You know, it's a good thing we didn't have others there. If you thought our wakeup was an awkward one, just imagine having a number of other mammals in bed with us... ones we didn't know!"

Pulling his lips free from the twisty straw, the petite predator blinked his eyes as he considered that. "Okay, now I'm imagining a polar bear wet t-shirt contest," Finnick murmured as the gears in his mind continued to turn. "And I'm not sure _what_ to think."

Although she wanted to concentrate on the bartender as he popped the top off a champagne bottle, the way the fennec suggested that was making her stomach give off an audible gurgle of displeasure. "...Guys, how about we just get our food before we turn off out appetites?" The Latina woman suggested.

"Totally," Wilde was quick to reply, needing to banish the thought of the housekeeper that brought him his laundry in bed with him and Carm that the damn desert fox put into his head.

The smallest vulpine of the trio nodded his noggin firmly, making his large ears flop for a moment. "Yep," Zerdan said as he turned to face Carmelita and held his arms out to her.

Rolling her eyes in a good natured fashion, the vixen got off her seat before she reached out and picked the small fennec up much like a mother would their child. She then carefully set him onto his feet, making sure he had his balance before releasing him. "There you go, Finny. Get yourself something nice to eat."

"Will do!" The petite predator chirruped before he ran off ahead of the pair, leaving them back at the bar. Apparently, the tiny tod could be quick as a bunny when he wanted to.

Watching as his partner rushed off to feed himself, the Hawaiian shirt-adorned male fox couldn't help but chuckle. "I've got to admit, this is one the nicest place I've ever stayed at," Nick told his fellow red fox as he looked around the restaurant, taking in the ambiance of white and Polynesian-style carvings in the icy interior. "I mean it. It's certainly better than sleeping in someone's dresser for one thing."

Frowning at her friend's words, the Hispanic beauty walked in-step with the crimson-pelted canid as they made their way towards the buffet line. "I'm sorry to hear Zootopia has been rather rough on you..." she said in all seriousness.

Shrugging his shoulders, the pawpsicle hustler replied, "Eh, I've come to expect it at this point..." he trailed off as he turned his attention to the line ahead. "Believe me, it's just par the course at this point," he grumbled irritably as his thoughts returned to his dream last night. Suppressing a shudder, the mammal settled for merely shaking his head in abject disgust. "Still, thanks for reminding me. I need to give Benji a call and let him know what happened. I told him I was going out for dinner... for all I know, he probably stayed up all night waiting on me to come back."

The vixen frowned slightly as she heard that, grasping a plate and offering it to Nicholas before taking one for herself. "I would hope he didn't. I think Officer Clawhauser still has work this morning," the Interpol Inspector replied as the pair came upon their turn at the buffet. A small section had some breakfast staples: scrambled eggs with a toppings bar, pieces of French toast and pancakes with a syrup bar, and a big pan of hash-browns. However, the rest of the buffet, the tables for which expanded out at either side of the main area was all kinds of luxurious Polynesian treats. Long rice with mixed vegetables, Kulolo bread pudding, Lomilomi salmon and tomato ceviche, Kālua-style squid and sweet potatoes, and more kinds of poi than a mammal could shake a limbo stick at!

However, it was readily apparent that Hawaiian fish salad or, 'poke' seemed to be the meal du jour... understandable really, considering all the polar bears and other Arctic predators that frequented the resort. Various styles with different cuts and species of fish with different applications of sauces, vegetables, and fruits... it made a nice variety for those who wanted their cold fish one way or another. From how the customers gathered around certain trays, it was apparent at first glance that ahi tuna and the he'e octopus pokes were the most popular.

Licking his lips, the con-mammal had to admit that he liked what he was seeing. "Well then, shall we gather us up some grub, pardner?" Nick chirruped with a fake Texan accent, trying to elicit a laugh from the woman. It wouldn't have been any less authentic than the decorations in a frozen wonderland.

Rolling her eyes, the Hispanic woman chirruped, "I don't think a Texan accent is appropriate for this atmosphere." She then smirked and teasingly suggested, "Now if you could sound like Elvis Predsley for me, then we'll start talking!"

Sadly, she should have realized a ham like Wilde would take her up on the challenge. "Oh baby, don't be cruel..." the male vulpine replied, trying to deepen his voice with the twang of, 'The King'. "Uh-hu~Uuuuuh!"

Playfully punching her friend in the arm, the vixen replied, "Okay, I get the hint." She then started to take some utensils from the plate station, intent to offer them to her fellow vulpine... only to frown irritably as she saw him in the process of pocketing some of the silverware. "Wilde..." she growled at the troublesome tod. "Really? I mean, _**really**_?"

Blinking his bright viridian eyes as he realized he had been caught in the act, the fox couldn't help but chuckle nervously under the scrutiny of the woman's furious gaze. "Sorry, sorry..." he apologized genuinely. "Force of habit," he said as if it explained everything.

"You better use that stuff to eat with." The policewoman growled menacingly as he took the silverware out of his pocket.

The vulpine male nodded his head rapidly. "Sure thing!" He chirruped, not wanting the woman mad at it. In truth, he really hadn't meant to, it was just... so _tempting_ , simply sitting there, shimmering beneath the fluorescent lights. Each utensil was practically signing, 'Take us, Nick! Take us now! Think of the money you can get from selling us!'

Really, who could blame him for listening?

Sighing as she saw the man try to act like a good boy again, the woman shook her head in frustration. Honestly, she had an understanding of just _why_ Wilde acted way he did but that didn't mean she couldn't try to break him of some of those nasty ingrained habits. Especially since she was pretty certain this place had hidden security cameras... which would lead to Nicholas having a run-in with security.

Out of curiously, she lifted up a fork and spun it around, the Inspector's gaze trailing over it for a certain imprint. "Yep... point-nine-nine-nine pure silver..." she murmured as she decided to be extra careful not to lose it. She now had a feeling that besides cameras, security personnel were around somewhere in close vicinity, waiting for someone to pull the shit Nick had. As far as she was concerned, she saved his tail from himself... **again**.

 _Stay focused, Carmelita_ , the vixen internally told herself. _You and he are just both skittish after last night_. Especially since, all things considered, she probably came extremely close to getting laid last night. Honestly? The thought **terrified** her. She had been trying to stay loyal to Sly all this time and what happened? She drank a little too much and switched underwear with a guy before the two of them passed out in bed together!

She really needed to figure out _why_ they switched underwear in the first place.

Eventually the lovely Latina had her plate filled with a healthy serving of eggs she topped with shredded cheese, salsa, and guacamole from the toppings bar, a large serving ahi poke, and a square of Kulolo. She had to blink her eyes at the sight of Nick's plate, the dish entirely filled with a mix of scrambled eggs and hash-browns that he topped with the lomi-lomi salmon. "That's an interesting breakfast..." she murmured.

Shrugging, the smarmy predator replied, "I love salmon but even cooked, this stuff is served **cold**! Having it atop a steaming pile of eggs and potatoes makes it much more palatable..." he smiled as he looked down at it. "That and it reminds me of when my—" he caught his tongue suddenly, a sad look crossing his face before he schooled his features and continued more calmly. "It reminds me of when I used to put ketchup in my eggs when I was a kid."

Although she could tell something was slightly off with the man, the vixen instead made her way back to the bar with her fellow red fox. If he wanted to explain himself, the off-duty cop knew he would in time. "Well, if you like chopped tomatoes with your eggs, try the salsa next time," she happily suggested. "It's tomatoes with a bit more of a kick... as an acquaintance of mine once said, 'When you're living life on the spicy side, you don't have time to be left out in the cold, home-boy'."

That caught the male fox off guard, blinking his eyes repeatedly in confusion. What kind of kooky accent was she trying to mimic? "Maybe but I was never was a big fan of salsa. Still, I might give it a try at your behest," the man admitted. He figured such couldn't be too bad if it were handled right.

"I mean it, Wilde," Carmelita insisted. "I make a fine salsa if I do say so myself. An old family recipe," she explained as she took her seat at the bar.

Blinking his eyes once more for good measure, the male vulpine finally admitted, "I could learn to like salsa." He then took his own seat at the bar to the lovely Latina's left. With his plate settled, he reached for his drink with his right paw and brought it to his lips, taking a sip from his Bloody Mary. He allowed the alcoholic tomato juice to go down his throat, indulging in the burning sensation for a moment before he turned his attention back to his meal, using his fork to shovel scoopfuls of egg, shredded potato, yellow-fin tuna, and diced tomatoes into his maw; the predator gorging like an animal on the verge of starvation.

As he was so into his own meal, Wilde missed the return of his friend. "A little help here?" Finnick queried as he held aloft his own plate, the dish piled up so high with food that Carmelita had to stare. "Seriously, I mean it! This is heavy and I might drop it soon!"

Needless to say, it took her a moment but the vixen finally regained her wits. "...Jesús Cristo!" The woman shouted as she quickly got down from her chair and grasped the plate that was loaded high with eggs, pieces of French toast, and hash-brow that were just drenched in poi as if it were gravy. "This is a lot of food! Are you sure you can pack it all away?" She asked as she set it on the bar countertop for him.

Nodding his head in confirmation, the desert fox firmly insisted, "Totally! Especially since I didn't have much for dinner besides a grilled cheese sandwich and cup of tomato soup Cherry and I split last night."

Snapping his jaws a few time, the larger male vulpine swallowed his food, clearing his mouth. "Speaking of the Arctic vixen," Nick spoke up to get the attention of both his carnivore compatriots. "Just where is Cherry this fine morning anyway? I was certain she would be hanging off of you."

Snorting, the petite fennec replied, "She had to teach a Yoga class this morning."

Raising an eyebrow, the Latina turned her head to look at the fennec, said desert fox blinking at her when he realized she was putting her focus on him. "Yoga?" The female red fox queried, curious as to that. Considering it for a moment, she suggestively added, "Let me guess: it's helpful in _other_ aspects of your relationship?" The woman then knelt down slightly, grasping the smaller vulpine in both her hands.

Finnick grinned as Carmelita helped him up to the counter top. "You know it!" He said with a cackle as the woman set him back down onto his seat by the bar. He then did a rather good impression of Wilde's earlier start by using a spoon to literally shovel his food into his maw, uncaring as to how he appeared to everyone else while he did so. He had the need to **feed**!

Rolling her eyes at the tiny tod's lack of manners, the woman let off a small sigh of exasperation. "Men..." the Latina beauty murmured before shaking her head. Settling herself back into her seat once more, she began eating at a far more sedate pace compared to her fellow foxes, enjoying the warm, cheesy, saucy eggs that had just the right amount of tangy zest from the guacamole. "Delicious..." she murmured before she focused on her meal outright.

From there, the trio was content, the foxes taking their time to enjoy their breakfast, each bite a savory cacophony of flavor. It truly was a nice way to start the day...

...At least until a male voice loudly shouted from behind them. The cry of, "HEY!" was particularly prevalent to the vixen. As such, she turned about in her seat to see just _what_ the ruckus was about

At first, Carmelita thought it was a group of Arctic hares: three women and one guy. However, a second glance confirmed that one of the rabbits she thought to be women was actually a male with a tuft of fur in the front that resembled instant ramen than it did actual hair. Said ramen hair was wearing pants that were red with blue triangles and lime green zigzag patterns on them. "Looks like something from the Eighties," she heard Nick mutter–and couldn't help but agree with. The rabbit was also wearing a black hoody with a red Herd Records logo on it and an unzipped red jacket that appeared to be leather... possibly the one piece of leather she'd seen in this city outside of her boots!

The other guy in the group– who actually LOOKED like a male rabbit at first glance–was wearing white pants that had various national flags on them while placing the American flag prominently over the crotch. _Oh look, a typical American tourist!_ Carmelita thought to herself sarcastically. What really annoyed her was the fact that this person was wearing a **fur** coat. _Seriously? Fur? You have a natural pelt of your own yet you choose to skin another animal for theirs?_ She thought bitterly. There was no way in hell that was synthetic, not if they were at the Snow Palace. Yes, it was a practice across the world for a number of furless animals to do such, it was still a social taboo for pelt-adorned mammals to do such.

One of the women had a Russian Ushanka hat on her head–again, a rabbit going out of her way to wear real animal fur. Her blonde hair was long and wavy and she wore what seemed to be a black vest adorned with tiny red hearts on it atop a white long-sleeve shirt and the same flag pants as the fur-coat adorned lapin. It was an outfit the vixen was willing to bet was worth more than she made in a year.

The last girl in the group was wearing red pants, red Preyda brand sandals, a festive blue Hawaiian shirt adorned with bright red flowers on it and a blue-and-red-striped bandanna over her forehead to keep her long locks of red hair from getting into her eyes.

No, seriously! Her hair was so long that it was hanging over the girl's shoulders and down to where her navel would be. Apparently she was able to forgo the need for any thick clothing by just abusing her body's natural attributes to the extreme as if she were some Rapunzel.

Overall, Carmelita had to sigh internally. It was during situations like this that she was reminded of Sly the most. The Ringtail often told her that mammals who acted and dressed fancy to try and show off their importance... at least the level of it in their own minds... were some of the, 'biggest douchebags under the sun'–his words, not hers.

Although she found herself truly agreeing with such sentiment when the male hare that actually _looked_ like he was of his birth gender at first glance stepped towards her; a pompous gait to his walk. "What do you think you're doing!?" He demanded to know of the vulpine trio.

Furrowing her eyebrow, the vixen swallowed her mouthful of eggs before calmly replying, "Having breakfast with my friends."

Crossing his arms over his chest, the lapin in a heavy fur coat–likely Feral timber wolf–firmly stated, "I'll have you know those seats belong to us!" He lifted his right paw up to point at himself with his thumb. "We're regulars here at the Polar Luau Lounge: so step off, Chomper!"

The polar bear behind the counter sighed. "We have seats available at the end of the row, Edmond." He lifted his left paw up and motioned to the stretch of seats; a quartet of said stools that aligned the bar vacant and waiting to be filled. "You and your brother can take your girls to sit down there and I'll be right with you."

Mr. Ramen Hair wasn't having it. "Oh, he~YEEELL naw!" the younger male cried out, as he swirled his head a bit in a circular motion, clearing his vision of the frosted tips of his curly bangs that had drifted into his eyes. "These are the center seats of the bar and the best view of the place both ways! Why should we let some friggin' pelts get all the attention!?"

Rolling his eyes, Derek let out a long-suffering sigh. Being the bartender had its ups and downs and frankly, dealing with yuppies was one of his lowest lows. "Because they were here first," the polar bear countered, explaining things in a tone one typically reserved for small children. "If you wanted to sit here so badly, then you should have reserved the seats... but even if you called down, Mr. Kholodno would tell me to ignore it." As he said that, he eyed the vixen in particular. Apparently, he knew about the woman through the hotel grapevine.

Both male rabbits look absolutely flabbergasted at being told off by the establishment but it was the blonde-haired female in heart-printed black vest that spoke up with a scandalized cry of, "Like, omigawd! Did you hear that, Edmond-honey? They're, like, totally dissing you or some junk for a bunch of stupid _**foxes**_!"

Hearing his girlfriend/gold-digging whore point out the obvious slight to his pride and reputation, the elder of the two male rabbits grit his teeth angrily, gnashing them together in an intimidating–for a rabbit–fashion. "How dare you say that? Do you even know who I am!?"

"Someone who is keeping me from enjoying my breakfast. So please, take your shitty sense of style and get out of here," Carmelita said in all seriousness as she turned around to face the bar, done giving the little uppity prick her attention. The vixen had dealt with far too much in the past twenty-four hours and she would be damned if she allowed some self-important little prey prick try to assert his non-existent authority now.

His blue eyes going wide, the prey mammal adorned in a fine genuine wolf fur jacket declared, "You stupid bitch! I'll have you know our clothing is from the _finest_ designers in Zootopia!"

Nick barely suppressed a snort of annoyance. Having grown up the son of a tailor, he knew what **real** style was. _These bunny yuppies had no friggin' clue_ , he thought irritably as he instead focused on bringing another forkful of mixed breakfast goodness to his mouth.

However, the lovely Latina proved she wasn't going to be as polite as the vulpine to her left that held his tongue. Without turning around to look at the Arctic animals, she snidely replied in a very foxy fashion, "So you went with their, 'tripping out on wild mushrooms' line?"

A smirk crossing his features, Nicholas couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter that time.

His eyes going wild in rising indignation, the male rabbit snarled. "HEY!" Edmond shouted as he reached forward, firmly grasping her left shoulder with his head, intent to spin her around on her seat. "Don't you dare disrespect me, you fucking Yiffer! I'll have you know—"

Whatever else the self-entitled lapin could have gone on ranting about was cut short as the woman's left elbow slammed into his solar plexus before her forearm flung backward from that position, smashing the rabbit in his muzzle with the back of her fist. He went down like a sack of bricks, crying out in pain from having his ass kicked so soundly...

...And she hadn't even bothered to look at him.

Looking down at the whining rabbit as he squirmed all over the icy floor as blood splattered from a broken nose, Derek couldn't help but whistle in appreciation of the woman's technique. She was quite efficient! "He totally had that coming," the bartender murmured as he reached over and picked up the red emergency phone. Almost immediately, he began to say, "Medic's office? Yeah, we got another busted muzzle up here in the Polar Luau Lounge. You mind bringing some help with you? This is going to get ugly."

"YOU BITCH!" The rabbit screamed as he thrashed his legs up and down as he tried to deal with the pain.

Heating that, the ursine male cringed. "Yeah, you better bring some tranquilizer darts. I think elephant strength would be appropriate."

Gazing down at the fallen male as he squirmed around on the floor like a newborn kit while trying to stem the flow of blood from his broken nose, the lapin woman with long locks of red hair moved them out of the way of her eyes to get a better look. She couldn't help but whistle at the sheer brutality that had been delivering on her boyfriend's sibling. "Like, wow... you see what she did, Edwin? Totally owned your brother." She turned her head towards him, smiling in a bubbly fashion. "I guess that makes you top lop, huh?"

The younger brother didn't seem to hear his girl trying to stroke his ego as he turned to the vixen with an enraged look in his eyes. "Yiffing bitch!" He snarled as he pulled a pocket knight out of his jacket with his right paw; the blade clicking free of the handle as he rushed towards her.

Her ears twitching at the noise of the blade flicking into the open, the vixen was quick to spin around in her seat, catching the small three-inch pocket knife between the prongs of her fork before twisting it and pulling the weapon free from his grasp with her right hand, letting him fall towards her, just as the Hispanic vixen's left hand reached back. It then rocketed forward with an impressive palm strike, catching the rabbit in the face and breaking his nose outright like his brother's, the woman dropping him even harder than she had his older sibling. "Putz..." she huffed under her breath.

The bartender whistled as he watched the altercation unfold, thoroughly impressed. Raising the phone up to the side of his head once more, he added, "Check that. We now have two mammals that are badly injured, professionally done if I might say so. Right, better send for four just in case." He then finally hung up the phone on its cradle and shook his head.

Turning about in his seat, the male red fox twitched as he watched both girls fretting over their downed boyfriends. His ears flattened back against his scalp, the crimson-pelted canid turned to look at the vixen, witnessing as she angrily chugged her mimosa. "...Carm?" He said her name softly, hoping to Gouda he didn't get popped for disturbing her while she was agitated. Seeing her do such to the two bunnies, he understood it would have **hurt**.

With her cheeks puffed out from the immense amount of alcoholic liquid they held, the woman pursed her lips together tightly before forcefully swallowing the spiked orange juice. Letting off a small gasp for much needed air, the vixen turned her head, her chocolate orbs meeting her fellow fox's emerald eyes. "Yes, Nick?"

The male vulpine paused, unsure of what to say for a moment. When no flying fists of foxy fury were incoming, he ventured to suggest, "That... that was kind of brutal."

"And one pulled a weapon on me..." she said as she motioned to the pocket knife that was still stock within the prongs of her fork. "After I day I had yesterday, I have zero tolerance for anyone's bullshit. Come after me with violence, expect it in turn... with interest."

Staring down at the bat with the vicious looking knife that she had managed to catch with a fork of all things, the vulpine con-mammal raised his head to look towards Derek. "...Bartender!" Nick chirruped as he tried to wave down the polar bear. "Please get my friend another champagne and orange juice: STAT!"

"And I would like another Midori sour," Finnick stated as tapped on the empty ice cup with his knife to make a clinking sound, indicating it was empty. As the other two taller vulpines stared at him, the desert fox merely shrugged his shoulders. "What? I'm a thirsty. These potatoes are salty as all fudge!"

However, before either of the red foxes could say anything, they were beaten to the punch but another mammal. "I must say," a familiar voice spoke up, causing Nick and Carmelita to turn around, the pair catching sight of Vinsent as he gazed down at the scene in amusement. "Quick and brutal: very effective. If you ever want to quit being a police officer, Madame Fox, my boss would quickly hire you as one of his personal bodyguards."

The rabbit with the lengthy red tresses raised her head to stare towards the large polar bear in shock. "Like... the Yiffer is a cop?" She asked, surprise evident in her tone... before the Arctic lapin yelped in fear of the glare that Vinsent directed towards her.

As the brightly-colored bunny went quiet, the large polar predator that acted as Head of Security for the Snow Palace Resort nodded his head firmly in confirmation. "Miss Fox is our most distinguished guest. You have not only been rude to her but also to Mr. Kozlov in insulting her. Even if she had started the fight, **which she did not** , you would still be in the wrong." He stated firmly, leaving no room for error: the hares had screwed up by acting like entitled brats. "Now, Edmond... Edwin..." he said to the downed boys, ignoring their arm-candy strumpets. "We're going to take you down to the medical wing to get you looked at. Once you're patched up, I believe it would be in your best interests to stay away for some time to come, dah?"

"Yuh... yiffin' puhlt..." the elder Arctic hare sibling cursed through his broken nose, his Feral wolf coat now stained with so much of his blood.

 _*Thwip*!_

And just like that, the polar prey mammal went completely still; foot twitching as he had a dart sticking out from the right side of his neck.

A smile graced the muzzle of the ursine with a facial scar. "Ah, good timing," Vinsent praised as a couple of armed medics came rushing onto the scene. "Such is a much more peaceful than my way of dealing with them."

Watching as the nurses came into the restaurant firing off tranquilizer darts–even at the two lapin females that were horrendously dressed–Nick twitched slightly before he turned his attention back to the lovely vixen beside him. "...You know, my life used to be so much quieter before you came into it," he told her in a teasing fashion.

The vixen raised an eyebrow to that in curiosity. "Is that a bad thing?" Carmelita asked in all seriousness. From what she had seen, her friend's life had been complete crap before she became part of it.

"...Only the fact that I've had to make adjustments on the fly more often than I would like," the pawpsicle hustler replied as he held up his Bloody Mary. "So cheers to a new day? May we actually enjoy it and **not** get shot at for once?"

Rolling her eyes, the vixen reached for her refilled glass–with decorative orange slice on the rim–and brought her drink over to him for a toast. "Cheers to a new day."

"Burrra~ **AAAAAAAAAAP**!" The tiny tod at the other side of Carmelita belched, Finnick proving he had nothing left to toast with while also reminding the bartender he wanted his refill!

The Hispanic stared down at the fennec before turning her attention back to her fellow red fox. "...I think when I get back to Honey's I am going to drop like a rock and sleep the rest of this day away."

" **Totally** ," Nick agreed before clinking his glass with Carmelita's before the two began drinking deeply.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Whelp, it's November 27th... two weeks AFTER I promised to have an update and what should have been the release date for Chapter 16. I bet you're all wondering what the heck happened.

I'll be blunt: sickness.

The day after I posted Chapter 14, I came down with dreaded, "Con Crud'. I had gotten the flu at Furpocalypse and it wasn't fun. I had gotten over it for maybe a day and a half, just in time for my folks to come back from Florida... and mom had a cold. I took care of her for a couple of days, only to then get that same damn cold myself.

Unfortunately, whether it was because of my asthma or the fact my immune-system was already taxed from the flu, I couldn't bounce back. I literally dropped from pneumonia and spent a good day in the emergency room getting my lungs forcibly cleared out with a steroid treatment and getting prescribed all kinds of medications while I continued to battle it.

I'm going to be blunt. Prednosone was a bitch. A solid week of no real sleep, (I couldn't even pass out for an hour before I began to suffocate from mucous) yet a TON of energy from the medication... medication that also destroyed my focus and left me unable to do anything BUT exercise at the wee hours of the morning when people should be sleeping!

At least I can say I'm finally better. Sadly at this point I will say I might be switching over to a three-week schedule for the winter season as I live in the New England area and winter tends to be a bit of work whenever it snows. I work as a caretaker of four real estate properties and that takes a lot of effort on my part: particularly the condo and the dental practice with their parking lots filled with cars. So while I will continue to write, any snowstorms that come up... especially multiple ones... will be a sign that I can't stick to a two week schedule.

Otherwise I will TRY to stick to a two week schedule. Here's hoping I can get the next chapter done by December 10th.

And remember: Try Everything... including telling people, 'Merry Christmas', 'Happy Chanukah', 'Kwazy Kwanza', 'Very Solemn Ramadan', 'Screw Your Holidays: I'm an Atheist', or what have you !


	16. Fiery Tempers

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 16: Fiery Tempers

Stepping outside of the doors to the Snow Palace, Carmelita did her best to suppress the shiver she felt trying to run its way along her spine due to the wind blasting over her with temperatures that were so cold, the woman was surprised she didn't have icicles forming in her fur. "Damn," she muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest and pressed them tight against her, trying her best to keep her body heat contained. "I'm beginning to realize it was actually warmer inside!" And the hotel had been made of snow and ice!

"That's T-Tundratown f-for you," her fellow red fox stuttered as he did the same as her, only he was in a worse position to try and keep warm as he only had a Hawaiian shirt over his torso. He brought his paws up to the front of his muzzle, blowing into them to try and create some warmth before he rubbed the pads of his paw together vigorously, hoping to use the friction to build up some body heat. "Cheeses H-for-Hummus Cuh-Crackers, Finnick! Why the heck are we wuh-waiting out here if they hotel valet service parked your van? We c-could be inside and out of this damn wind!" He complained to his diminutive partner.

Taking off his sunglasses with one hand, the fennec turned his gaze up to his somewhat partner in illegitimate business and let off a sigh of annoyance at taller male's whining. "Simple, Wilde," he began in a rather curt manner. "Because if I'm to get the parking comped by Mr. Cold, then I need Miss Fox here to sign it out for me." He then pointed at the woman for emphasis. "Otherwise I'd be out twenty-four bucks to let someone touch my van and I'll be damned if I pay to have someone to get in **MY** seat and ruin the controls."

"And the r-reason I'm out here?" Nick asked with a hint of irritation as the cold wore away at his patience at a rapid pace, his ability to maintain a calm demeanor dwindling as fast as the falling temperature.

Staring at his somewhat friend, a smile tugged at the corners of Finnick's muzzle. "Simple: if I gotta be out here then you sure as hell are getting punished with me, Mr. Wastes-Thirty-Grand-Liquor!" He snapped out angrily, letting the taller vulpine know that he hadn't forgiven him for wasting precious ice wine, let alone the chance to raise a luxury suite's mini-bar! _I bet it had Toblerones_ , he thought with a bit of sadness at the chocolate he would never know.

The taller of the two male predators shivered in place from the cold as his left ear twitched; the auditory receptor catching the soft noise of Carmelita trying to stifle a chuckle. "Oh, have a heart, F-Finnick! I wuh-was drunk, d-damn i~iiiiit!" The canid con-mammal whined through his chattering teeth as his tail waved back and forth behind him wildly in an effort to keep his blood pumping.

"Still not letting you live it down," the annoyed desert fox replied in all seriousness as he lifted the cup of coffee he had in his left hand to his lips and took a sip. "Aahhh..." he murmured in relief. "It might not be Snarlbucks but this place does make a good cup." After all, nothing beat, 'free'. _I definitely need to take more trips down here with Officer Fox in her downtime_ , he mentally promised himself with a bit of amusement. Even he found it to be ironic just how much he was coming to enjoy the cop's company; he **hated** police officers!

Watching the shortest male amongst them continue to drink from a large Styrofoam cup while the snow and hail continued to come down around them thanks to the Climate Wall mercilessly working overtime, Carmelita couldn't help but query, "Hey, Finnick? H-how are you handling this so well? We're freezing and yet you're standing there..."

"Like a boss?" Finnick suggested for her as he used his free paw to flick his sunglasses back into place on his face.

The Latina vulpine blinked her chocolate eyes once, twice. "...Sure, we'll go with that." Really, there was no use arguing with him over something so trivial. "So how?"

Smirking, the petite predator calmly replied, "Two reasons. First, I'm a desert mammal. A desert is more than just heat. When the sun goes down, it's not all that different from the tundra, temperature-wise at least. And second..." he gave the vixen a genuine smile. "I got used to it from my time dating Cherry. She's one cool customer, if you catch my drift?"

Nick smirked slightly as a thought occurred to him. "So she's a c-customer, huh?" He managed to query through his chattering teeth. "Fuh-funny. I thuh-thought it was the other way—"

"Finish that statement and I will make you **eat your teeth**!" The tiny tod interrupted the taller mammal with a snarl. A mammal could say all they wanted about him but if someone dared to diss his sweet Cherry, they were going to face the wrath of hell!

Blinking his eyes a couple of times in surprise at the show of the smaller fox's protective–and violent–nature, the crimson-pelted canid wisely decided not to finish the joke.

The Hispanic beauty merely stared down at the furious fennec, slowly mulling over what he told her. Finally, she had to ask, "That's it?" Needless to say, Carmelita was left slightly confused by that. For someone as loud and boisterous as the tiny tod, such seemed so... _**mundane**_.

"There's also the fact he's rather short," Nicholas chirruped, getting a dirty look from Finnick as he did so. Noticing the smaller mammal's glare, the canid hustler gave him a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "What? Ever notice that any animals that live up by the poles are either immense to maintain internal heat like polar bears or they're really short and tiny so their hearts don't have to pump blood as far? You fall into that latter category, buddy."

However, before the smallest of the vulpine trio could angrily answer, someone else responded in turn. "Are you calling us _**fat**_?" A thick, Russian-accented voice spoke up from behind the male vulpine, making his ears flatten against his scalp and his tail to go limp. Turning around, the crimson-pelted canid's eyes widened as he saw Kozlov standing there with Morris and a contingent of a half dozen guards at either side of them.

"...Oh no, certainly not my good Sir!" Nicholas managed to squeak out. "When I said, 'immense' I meant you have such big hearts full of kindness and generosity and caring and... and... and-oh-Gouda-please-don't-kill-me!" He managed to blurt out as the members of Mr. Cold's security were staring down at him with eyes narrowing in anger.

Sighing in exasperation, Carmelita decided she needed to save her friend from himself–something the Latina vulpine noticed was becoming a trend as of late. In truth though, she almost expected such a confrontation to occur before they could leave... sure, the vixen didn't _think_ Kozlov would have gotten the bill this quickly but she hadn't been counting on it. "So, Mr. Kholodno," she spoke up politely to get the attention of the icy resort's owner on her rather than her friend. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence this fine chilly morning?"

And just like that, almost as if a switch had been flipped, the firm and menacing scowl of the former Russkaya Mafiya Don's face melted away in a warm smile. "Nothing much, konfetka," he said in a kind manner. "Is it too much for a man to want to see off the lovely lady who protected his only child yesterday?" He bent down a bit, and reached forward, taking her paw into his. He then held it up enough so that he could kiss the back of her hand...

And then in turn, the security staff began to do the same. Over and over, tall muscular armed ursine men in black suits kept on displaying their loyalty to the woman Kozlov had chosen to throw his support behind.

Needless to say, Inspector Fox's eyes were daring back and forth, hoping to God above that no one that was around to see this had either a camera or cell phone on them to record it.

 _Man, I wish I had a camera right now...well that or my phone_ , Finnick thought to himself as he looked on, surprised by what he was witnessing. After all, it never hurt to have blackmail material on anyone; doubly so if they were a cop!

Just because he liked her didn't mean that he fully trusted her. Sure, she may have saved his life... _twice_... but the lovely Latina's presence at the Cash Cow still caused him to get shot in the ass! The policewoman owed him at least one more life-saving– **and a pizza** –at bare minimum before he considered things between them settled!

When all the men had finished kissing her right paw, Morris came in and gave the slightly taller vixen a tight hug, making her gasp out as the air rushed out from her lungs; he may have been a child but in being a polar predator the boy was beginning to show strength even at such a young age. "Thank you, Miss Fox!" The young bear cub chirruped sweetly. "We need to go out for pizza again sometime!"

Inhaling as deeply as she could for some air to reply, the Hispanic beauty turned her gaze to the child. "...As long as it doesn't turn out like last night, I don't see why not," the woman allowed as she slowly brought her arms down to return the hug. She might not have been comfortable with public displays of affection but kids were kids. It was easier and came more naturally with them.

The boy nodded his head repeatedly, doing an unintentional but nonetheless impressive impression of a bobble-head doll. "Yeah! It's no fun when mean people show up and do bad things," Morris agreed as he finally released the hug, allowing Carmelita to take a deep breath as her lungs filled with oxygen. "Are you okay?"

The woman was quick to nod her head to stave off any worry the boy might have for her. "Yeah, just..." the vixen paused to pant softly for a moment. "Just a little tip for the future Morris," the policewoman began as she smiled at him. "Don't hug smaller mammals so hard, okay? I know they're called, 'bear hugs' for a reason but do be careful, all right?"

The little boy blinked his bright blue eyes a couple of times as he processed what the older woman was telling him. "Ah! Got'cha! I promise to be more careful, Miss Fox!"

"Now, now, my dear Morris... there's no need for you to be so formal with our friend here..." the large polar bear told his son as he reached down to affectionately rub the boy's head with one of his impressive paws. "You can call her, _Aunty Carmelita_." He smirked as said, 'Aunty' glared daggers at him.

The young Arctic ursine didn't seem to notice the visual exchange between the two adults as he instead went wide-eyed with delight at the prospect of more family. "Right! Thank you again, Aunty Carmelita!" He chimed happily as he hugged the vixen again, this time being more mindful of how tightly he grasped her. His new Aunty had told him to mind his strength and he was a good boy!

His teeth chattering as he continued to rub his paws over his biceps as he held himself, the vulpine stared about at the gathered adults. "N-no offense..." Nick spoke up carefully as he shivered considerably. "But where's the van? I think my assss~ **ets** are frozen!" He quickly corrected his language as he realized from the way he was being glared at that no one was allowed to talk any sort of vulgar language around the Kozlov's kid.

Looking down at the small male predator that wasn't built for the continued exposure to a snowy mountain environment, the former Bratva boss's smile strained slightly. "Don't worry, Wilde. I'm certain my staff will have your friend's Ford POS ready in no time," he said with the utmost confidence.

Blinking his amber eyes from behind the lenses of his sunglasses at the statement, the fennec turned about to look up at the much larger predator. "Actually, it's a Ford Lobos. A '71 edition to be precise."

His smile becoming more devious, the large polar bear decked out in numerous pieces of gold jewelry lifted up his sunglasses. Leaning in and staring at Mr. Zerdan with those icy blue eyes of his, the Arctic ursine calmly replied, "Did I stutter?"

His large ears flattening back against his skull enough that the tips touched the snowy ground, the tiny tod blinked his eyes before gulping nervously. He'd forgotten that despite being the boyfriend of one of the resort's darlings, he didn't have the same kind of clout with the man Wilde did, let alone the sheer adoration Miss Fox was subjected to. "...N-no..." he finally managed to stutter out.

Nodding his head firmly, the polar predator replied, "Exactly." The white-pelted ursine then straightened up his posture, his right paw rising to the side of his head and flipping his sunglasses with amber-colored lenses back into place–the reflection of the sunlight across the snow was awfully bright that day.

The taller male vulpine managed to smile a little. He always loved one someone else held the large polar bear's ire. It meant **he** was safe for the time being. "If we're done picking on Finnick..."

" _NEVER_!" A female voice yelled out from somewhere on the resort grounds that Nick would have **sworn** was Angel's.

Still, he continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I would like to get a bit warmer than I am right now, if that's fine with everyone, My toes and my sides are numb..." he brought his hands up and wiggled his digits. "Actually I can't feel my fingers either."

Rolling his eyes at the male canid con-mammals' incessant whining, Kozlov sighed. "Just wait for your ride to arrive and be on your way... trust me. We want to make sure you head off safely..." he turned about to look at the smaller male red fox, letting Nicholas know he had his attention. "So just tough it out now and you can wrap yourself up in blankets on the ride home."

Even as she was being hugged by the white-furred bear cub who refused to release her, Carmelita raised an eyebrow at the answer the hotel owner gave her friends. There was something about the man's insistence that they just be patient as they would get going immediately was raising some red flags in her mind. "Excuse me, Mr. Kholodno?" She spoke up, hoping to get the larger mammal's attention. "...You wouldn't happen to need us to leave right now for any particular reason, do you?"

"Of course not," the polar predator replied as he nodded his head; a visual cue that was in complete _opposite_ of what he was telling her. "We certainly don't need you to leave because some lapin visitors have decided to call the cops and want to press charges, most definitely not."

"Oh..." she replied slowly. Sadly, that made far too much sense. The Latina vulpine certainly didn't want to be implicated in anything at the moment. Even if she was in the right, she didn't want to have this hanging over her head. Who knew how the politicians would try spinning it?

Kozlov nodded at that, glad the woman understood. The vixen was definitely more on the ball than her two compatriots were, at least that much was certain. "So as you can see, we're just going to have you leave the Snow Palace and get you out of Tundratown as quickly as possible and you'll be quite fine, no need to worry in the slightest."

The woman sighed. While such seemed cowardly to her, she was beginning to realize from her time in Zootopia that in some cases, a tactical retreat was the better part of valor. "I understand," Carmelita said in all seriousness as she looked back and forth, feeling a bit of relief as the familiar visage of the fennec fox's van decked out in the very vibrant paint-job came rolling up to them. Looking down at the man's son who was still hugging her like a stuffed safety animal, she calmly told him, "Okay Morris, you can let go now. Your..." her smile twitched as it strained to stay up. "Your _Aunty_ Carmelita needs to get going now. You stay here where you'll be safe. And remember to be a good boy for your daddy, okay?"

Giving his newly christened aunt a firm nod of his head, the little–in age, not size–ursine child replied, "Okay, Aunty Carmelita. I'll stay here where I'm safe." He smiled wide, showing off his pearly white teeth. "At least I'll have Aunties Vanilla and Cherry to play with me!"

Raising an eyebrow, the woman queried, "What about Angel?"

Releasing the woman, all the boy could do was shrug his shoulders. "Aunty Angel is interesting but not all that fun to be around. She's like Uncle Finny when he doesn't have Aunty Cherry around."

The male red fox couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter at that explanation. "Trust me on this one, kiddo! Uncle Finnick's just not that much fun in general, let alone when he isn't around Cherry for long." He smirked as he could hear the petite predator growling at him.

Surprised by that response, Morris blinked his eyes in confusion. "But when he's around Aunty Cherry he seems so happy, " the young ursine replied as said vulpine they were talking to huffed in annoyance before marching off to the driver's side of the van to claim his baby back.

Nodding his head the pawpsicle hustler told the youth, "Well yes. That's because your Aunty Cherry has the special ability to take whatever happiness I feel and siphon it into him. Otherwise he's a bit of a sourpuss in his natural, Cherry-less state."

Although she raised one of her navy blue eyebrows at Nicholas' choice of words–and at the sounds of Mr. Zerdan arguing with the Seal valet of what he should be tipped–the Hispanic vulpine didn't pry as to why the youngest of the Arctic vixen trio made the male red fox unhappy. Instead, she merely interjected, "As it stands, it's time for us to head back to Savana Central. Remember: you mind your father and be a good boy for him, okay Morris?"

Turning his attention to the woman and giving her a warm smile, the boy straightened his posture and gave the female vulpine a salute. "You got it, Aunty! I'll be a good boy!"

Despite any misgivings she may have felt about this, there was something about the kid that the Latina vixen couldn't deny. So she merely smiled and nodded her head to him. "That's right, Morris." She turned to her fellow red fox and motioned to the van. "Come on, Nick. Let's head home. I'm sure Honey is probably worried sick by now." And probably wondering where her next meal was but she left that unsaid.

His eyes darting about to look at the numerous polar bears standing guard, Wilde merely nodded his head in agreement as he told her, "I can give her a call on the way back. Hopefully she'll understand." While the badger might have been used to him disappearing for weeks at a time, he understood that the vixen's presence would be sorely missed, considering she was living in the older predator's home for the time being.

Huffing in annoyance as the damn valet driver managed to walk away with a ten dollar tip out of his pocket despite not being responsible for paying for the service, the petite predator turned about towards his two passengers to get their attention. "All right you two! Time to fight over who gets to ride shotgun. We're getting out of here," Finnick said as he crawled into the driver's side door, before jumping up to grab the handle.

Watching for a moment as the little mammal opened his door and then swung back inside it with the motion, the Hawaiian shirt-clad canid started making a beeline for the vehicle. "I'm too cold to think about that, Finnick! I'm just gonna grab some of the blankets in the back and warm up," Nick replied as jumped onto the bumper and opened the back door. The vulpine male then climbed inside before slamming the metal barrier shut behind him.

Looking over his shoulder and into the back of the vehicle, the petite vulpine in the driver's seat frowned. "Just remember, Wilde! You might be freezing your tail off but there is **no** getting in my bed! That is my bed and my bed _**only**_! I don't want you soaking your wet fur into it!"

Huffing in annoyance at the man's protectiveness of his stuff while he pulled the blanket off of Finnick's mattress, the taller of the two male foxes calmly replied, "Oh please! Don't think so low of me! I might have had accepted some odd sleeping spaces now and then–including the time I spent sleeping underneath the kitchen sink of a hotel restaurant I was washing the dishes for–but you haven't changed those sheets in as long as I know you! I might be desperate at times but I'm **never** _**that**_ desperate!"

Snorting, the desert fox shot back, "That's your problem, Wilde: too much of a wimp. One whiff of my manly musk and you're _**emasculated**_. I swear, if we pulled down those pants, we'll find out you wear panties!"

"...No, no you won't." Nick replied calmly. After all, Carmelita's panties were in his pocket. Going commando allowed him to maintain some level of masculinity at least... even if it did chaff down there.

Rolling her eyes at the banter between the two, the woman shook her head good naturedly. "Gentlemen..." Carmelita started to speak as she climbed onto the front passenger's seat. "Let's just get going. You guys can tease each other while we're driving," she told them in all seriousness. "Because the longer we take, the more likely it is we'll be giving statements we don't have time for and I'm already on thin ice with the ZPD as it is because of the City Council!" Granted, she wouldn't have said Chief M'Bogo was a pain at all–in fact, he had been doing everything he could to help her–but she didn't want to give the politicians any more reason to sow distrust between her and the other officers beyond what they had already managed.

"Right, right..." the desert fox replied as he placed both his left paw on the steering wheel as his other hand took hold of the lever at the right of the wheel's base, shifting the gear out of parking and into drive. "Everyone buckle up because it's going to be a bumpy ride down the mountain!" He might have had four-wheel drive and all-terrain tires but the van sure as hell wasn't an off-road vehicle, let alone designed for the steep vertical inclines of the mountains!

Nicholas blinked his eyes as the van started to move. "Wait, I'm not seat~ **ACK**!" He yelped out as he slipped on some water that had come from the snow on his tail melting in conjunction with the Ford's forward motion. Needless to say, he was not a happy blanket-bundled fox.

Watching as the vehicle adorned with Aztec iconography started to take off from the front of the Snow Palace, the owner of said resort released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, at least that's settled," Kozlov said as the van took off out of sight. He then turned about and gazed over the gathered members of hotel security. "All right, gentlemen. I want everyone back to work. We need to prepare for our... _appointment_."

"Yes Sir!" The dozen polar bears called chimed out and saluted in perfect synchronization. They needed to get everything together before the police arrived. They would defend their Patron Saint Carmelita's honor at any cost!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It was snowing late in the morning as a massive police cruiser made its way through the icy streets of the Tundratown District. While one of the heavily armored police cars wasn't an uncommon sight in this section of Zootopia, what did stand out was how it drove. Instead of the ski planks and heavy-duty multi-plate treads combination that were on all of the Tundratown cruisers, this had the specially treaded all-terrain studded tires of the Savanna Central models. As such, the hummer's weight pressed down firmly on the tires, allowing it to spray snow out from either side of the vehicle as it touched asphalt instead of swiftly gliding over; maintaining considerable speed despite the icy conditions.

What was even more of an oddity was the mammal behind the wheel. This wasn't just any member of the ZPD making their way to Tundratown's Precinct Fourteen... or rather, 'Fourteen-Below' as the chilly establishment had come to be known as due to the construction crew following the snow and ice-oriented building codes that were common to the district. Oh no, behind the steering wheel was a massively muscled bovidae, his ebony skin and horns standing out like a chipped hoof amongst all the white that surrounded him.

Chief Idriis M'Bogo of Precinct One, the central police authority of the grand City-State of Zootopia was on the move.

 _I knew I shouldn't have answered that damn phone_ , the cape buffalo thought bitterly as he continued to drive through the snowy streets. He was no stranger to any of the police stations in the city: he may have had his main office in Savanna Central but he had to visit the other stations from time-to-time. However when it came down to it, 'Fourteen-Below' was his most _**detested**_ stop... yes, even more so than Precinct Thirty-Eight in the Nocturnal District with its super-caffeinated and sugar-laden coffee that he **swore** gave him diabetes...

Because at least when he was in the underground district, he didn't have the worry that his prairie oysters were going to freeze off and leave him an ox!

Finally though, after having to go through the traffic of three districts, the police chief made it to his destination. The building itself was a breath-taking sight, with an appeal that lured a mammal to it in an almost mysterious way. Where Precinct One took its construction cues from Stone Hedge and the crown of the Statue of Liberty, this police station was similar to the Colosseum of Rome in its aesthetics albeit entirely of snow and ice. A wintery three story castle of superimposed carved ice which was pierced by windows interspersed at regular intervals with corbels positioned completely around the circular roof. However, one shouldn't be fooled by its turn of the century architecture as it **was** a modern facility. Even with the classical appearance, Precinct Fourteen contained within its walls and the special composite-insulated plumbing and various sorts of electrical wiring that the local houses and businesses used.

As amazing as it was, in truth, the building was just another one of the city's spectacles. It was but an opportunity for Zootopia to show off to the rest of the world as well as impose and intimidate the local populace. Perhaps it was only fitting that such a Romanesque landmark would cause the rise of Little Italy in this part of the city... let alone cause Tundratown to become the district of the city-state that became flooded with organized crime. _Sometimes karma is a real bitch_ , the muscular bovine thought, unable to help but mull over the poetic justice of it in the back of his mind as he drove into the station's parking lot.

Finally within less than a minute, he pulled into one of the parking spaces in the section of the lot reserved for visitor parking. Leaning back intot he driver's seat, the big and beefy bovine male took a deep breath from the warm air of the car's heater before he had to turn the key in the ignition and shut off the engine. Pulling it out and placing the key within the right pocket of his black overcoat, the African buffalo reached for the driver's side window with his left hooved hand and stepped out. He didn't have to unbuckle as the mammal had a bad habit of not using it... often enough the safety restraint couldn't reach around the bulk of his massive chest anyway and he felt the extenders they made for the larger mammals in the field–such as the hippos–just looked stupid on him.

But there he was... possibly the only dark-skinned mammal for miles around... a speck of imperfection on the pure white blanket of snow that stretched on for miles around him.

"Blasted snow, trying to keep a good water buffalo down," Idriis quietly grumbled to himself as he brought his hands up to his neck and grasped at the collar of his jacket with his hooved digits, pulling it up and holding it closer to his body. He carefully made his way to the staircase, being careful not to slip on the slick surface. Sure, such material was natural for the Arctic animals that made up the majority of the district's population but for someone with cloven hooved feet like him? It was a trial and a half!

Successfully making it to the top of the steps, the horned herbivore placed his right hand against one of the translucent ice doors of the building that was carved with an image of the ZPD badge and the motto of the department ringed around it. Pushing inward, the mammal was glad to step out of the freezing temperature and into the, 'very cold' instead. _Gouda All-Bitey, I hate Precinct Fourteen-Below_ , he thought with annoyance as he lowered his arms to his sides and strode into the foyer of the main entrance proper amongst the throngs of busy police mammals and other municipal employees.

Almost immediately, police officers were quick to drop whatever they were doing and salute the man; the Chief of the ZPD. Bogo wasn't surprised they noticed him so quickly as he really did stand out amongst the various animals that made up the police force of the Tundratown Precinct. The uniformed Polar bears, Arctic wolves, Siberian tigers Canadian lynxes, Alaskan moose, Alaskan elk, caribou, snow leopards, and so many more white-furred, haired, or pelted mammals.

Of course, it didn't help the horned herbivore that he also stood out because they wore pressed black uniforms with silver accents while he had a traditional series of blue hues and metallic gold tones that were more traditionally associated with the ZPD.

"At ease gentleman, at ease," he said as he brought his right hand up and flicked his wrist a number of times while motioning towards the floor in a signal to get them to stand down. As the officers did so and returned to what they were previously doing, the cape buffalo made his way to the front desk where a lovely white-pelted mink receptionist was positioned. He didn't know how a tiny and petite lady like this had managed to become an officer but he had the distinct impression that she was _at least_ a competent secretary.

"Greetings," he said to her as he slowly came up to the desk. "I was contacted by Deputy Chief Alekseevich. Is he available to see me, Officer..." he trailed off for a moment as his eyes gazed over to the plaque. "Aleutian?"

The lovely mustela smiled up at the much, **MUCH** larger mammal. "Oh please, Chief Bogo! Call me Minerva!" She cooed as she batted her eyelashes at the man.

The bovine blinked his eyes. Was the blonde mink hitting on him? "... Er, all right... Minerva," Bogo coughed into his hand. "I would engage in small talk but I am here at the request of the Deputy Chief. If he's available, would you please tell him that I have arrived?"

Smiling sweetly, the woman nodded her head. "Certainly," she chirruped kindly as she picked the phone up; bringing to the side of her head before she pressed a button on the cradle. She only waited a moment before speaking, "Hello, Chief Alekseevich? The Department Chief Bogo is here to see you. Yes. Uh-huh. Right then," the petite yet buxom predator replied quickly, nodding her head each time she did so. "Okay, I'll send him right in." She then hung the phone back onto the rest of the unit before turning her attention back to the bovidae. Smiling at him, she told the man, "Just go through, the Chief is available to see you."

The African buffalo nodded his head in gratitude before making his way past the dispatch desk and towards the interior of the building, wondering how someone with an obviously Russian name could manage such a genuine valley girl accent. _Must just come from strong family lines_ , he idly mused as he continued towards the back. Unlike Precinct One which had dual staircases on either side of the lobby, Fourteen-Below had a trio of stairwells to use that were situated at the Northern, Western, and Eastern points of the building: the Southern area being reserved for the public entranceway. Being as he was here to see ol' Konstantin, the mammal walked in a straight line to reach the end of that hallway.

And as Bogo walked, he passed rooms and offices; snow gathering everywhere as if it were dust run amok. Why, there was so much of the powdery white stuff that the mammal had to wonder if the place even had a custodial staff!

Coming across a seal in such a utility uniform purposely shoveling snow onto the floor from the large bucket connected to the front end of the maintenance cart, the herbivore breathed in deeply through his nostrils, blowing out a fox of frigid air before continued walking. He really should have known that such would be par the course for this place. Next thing he knew there would be elephant figure skaters around and he really didn't think the ice was thick enough to survive THAT!

"Maybe a glacier could handle it... maybe," the uniformed prey mammal muttered as he got to the door that lead to the stairwell. Again, it was yet another trial to climb the steps but at least this area had a handrail to use. He trembled slightly as, like much of the place, it had been carved from ice. Still, Bogo was one to persevere and eventually managed to get to the third floor without falling... as he'd had happen on more than one occasion. Turning directly to the left as he stepped past the doorway to the stairwell, he came upon the Chief's office and knocked on the doorframe with the knuckles of his right hand.

" _Come in, come in!_ " A male voice from within called out. Taking that as his cue, the cape buffalo grasped the handle and gave it a twist; the man surprised that ice was able to move that much smoother than his damned metal doorknob would! Still, pushing the door in, the muscular herbivore was greeted to the sight of the head of Precinct Fourteen-Below, Deputy Chief of Police Konstantin Alekseevich sitting behind his desk... the piece of furniture made out of ice, much like everything else in the room.

While Konstantin was a white leopard to be certain, the ebony uniformed male with a pair of silver stars on either side of his shirt collar was of the felidae breed rather than the classic uncia species of snow leopard. As such, the mammal was build more like a tiger, heavy muscled rather than soft and fluffy with golden dots in the center of his rosettes instead of it being a continuous silver or white like the interior of traditional snow leopard was... not to mention the man had a tail that was sleek rather puffed up with fluffiness. _Is that a phrase I can use or is, 'fluffiness' one of their words?_ He idly thought as his eyes turned to the other mammal in the room.

And just like that, the cape buffalo understood the nature of the call as a long-earned herbivore in fine suit that was sitting down in one of the two guest chairs. Still, he wasn't going to just jump into that mess unless it was forced on it. Instead, the black-skinned bovine turned his gaze towards his subordinate. "Chief Alekseevich."

From where he sat behind his workstation carved by the finest of Arctic artisans, the pardus nodded his head firmly in acknowledgement to his superior officer. "Chief Bogo," he greeted in return.

Hearing a cough from the other mammal in the room, the Police Chief had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Realizing there was no putting this off, the African buffalo turned his deep brown eyes to stare down at the white-pelted hair. "And Councilman Velveteen..." Idriis continued. When the lapin merely glared at him, the ebony-skinned herbivore continued, "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned to Tundratown for?" Granted, he was being polite and cordial but he never appreciated having to come to the frozen reaches of Zootopia unless it was important.

With one of the City Council members involved, he got the distinct feeling it **wasn't**.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he began slowly. A sentiment that came from the fact the Arctic hare thought of polar bears as simply awful mammals. "But one of your _police officers_ ," he practically spat out the term as if it were a curse. "Was causing problems here in Tundratown, Chief Bogo... and supposedly off the clock at that," the Councilman added pointedly. Leaning forward in his powdered snow-cushioned ice chair, he snapped at the much larger herbivore, "You know we don't appreciate wasting tax-payer dollars paying police officers overtime if they're not supposed to be working–especially when they're working outside of their jurisdiction as if they were some Dirty Harry!"

Bogo blinked his eyes. His gut instinct was telling him where this was going but rather than tip his hand, he merely asked, "Was the officer in uniform?"

The smaller Councilman continued as if the horned herbivore hadn't said a thing. "She hurt my boys, _**Bogo**_ ," he snarled out the man's name, foregoing his title. "I demand satisfaction for the injustices that have been delivered on my family. You will make amends for their pain and humiliation immediately!"

His deep brown eyes turning to look at the gold of the feline's, the cape buffalo's features became deep-set as the Deputy Chief's expression was a perfect poker face in return. Obviously this had to be about Carmelita–Velveteen had used the term, 'she'–and the predator didn't want to get involved with this and the possible trouble it would lead to with Zootopia's political class. So taking a deep breath, the muscular slab of beef turned his attention to the small lapin once more. "Was the officer in uniform?" He asked a second time.

Instead of answering the man, the Arctic hare continued his tirade. "My sons have broken noses, Chief! **Broken**! **Noses**! What the hell does the department think it's doing, taking in and federalizing such despicable predators!?" He straightened up in his seat, as he continued to verbally reprimand the African buffalo. "The police are here to protect and serve the people of Zootopia! Not intimidate and enslave!"

The ebony-skinned bovidae didn't back down from the member of his department's oversight group. "Was the officer in uniform?" He repeated a third time.

Fuming as he angrily glared up at the much larger prey mammal who refused to take the bait, the white-pelted hare let off a huff. Finally, he answered, "No. She wasn't."

The black-skinned bovine nodded his head. "Then obviously she wasn't abusing authority not costing the city a dime. Sounds to me like she was off-duty and off-the-clock," Idriis said, using a tone that an adult would reserve for calmly explaining things to a child. "While I have the authority during working hours, I can't be there twenty-four/seven to police the police! What someone does on their own time would require internal affairs," he winced as he hated thinking of that group. "So why drag me down here to freeze my ass!?"

"Because she's the Mayor's... pet project..." Chief Alekseevich explained as he let off an exasperated sigh, effectively confirming Bogo's suspicions: specism was involved. "It also doesn't help that she was staying at a hotel here in Tundratown."

The muscular bovine stared down at the Deputy Chief from where he stood. "...And?" He queried. "There are plenty of hotels to stay at in Tundratown, let alone Zootopia in general."

The white leopard's face was now apologetic as he explained, "It was the one run by Mr. Kozlov Kholodno: the Snow Palace Resort."

The bovine's expression went as stone-faced as the snow leopard's. "Well be that as it may, I'll have you know that Officer Fox is currently suspended, Konstantin," he told the spotted feline in a serious manner. "She has been caught acting off-duty fully uniformed and has been taken to task for it. That she **wasn't** decked out in her gear this time shows she is at least trying to keep her nose clean in that regard... or possibly just using her down time for a vacation." Finally walking further into the room, the cape buffalo pulled the free chair away from where it was besides Councilman Velveteen as he inquired, "So what did she do this time? Was she stopping a robbery in progress... **again**?"

"She. Broke. My. Sons'. **Noses**!" The Arctic hare snarled angrily as he watched the burly bovidae inspect the chair carved from ice. "I mean, how dare she? HOW DARE SHE!?" He demanded, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists. How dare some no good Yiffer lay a hand on one of his perfect offspring?"

As the member of the City Council continued to rant and rave, the Deputy Chief felt sympathy for Bogo. If the damn rabbit hadn't put him up to this, he wouldn't have dragged the good mammal all the way over to the coldest district of the city. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't try to help out his superior officer. "Details are a little sketchy and there are some conflicting reports but it seems that Officer Fox did, in fact, break the noses of the two boys."

The African buffalo immediately caught onto the hidden lifeline. "What kind of conflicting reports are we talking about here?"

Privately grateful that he didn't have to prod further and risk the lapin catching on to his bias for truth and justice, the snow leopard nodded his head to the Chief of the ZPD as he explained, "The Velveteen boys and their girlfriends claim Officer Fox started the altercation."

"SHE HAD TO HAVE!" Edward snapped angrily. After all, she was a predator! Fear, treachery, and bloodlust were part of their uncontrollable biological urges! _Hell, I'm taking a risk standing in here with this damn_ _ **pelt**_ _!_ He thought angrily; especially since he didn't trust the slab of beef to protect him in an emergency.

Taking a deep breath, the feline policeman exhaled slowly as he turned to look towards the much smaller Arctic animal. "Councilman, please," Konstantin stated firmly, interrupting the hare before the polar prey mammal could go onto another tirade. "The other reports were from on-duty hotel staff members saying that they witnessed the boys were acting, 'very rude' and in an, 'aggressive thuggish manner' towards her."

Bringing his hands up before him, the ebony-skinned bovidae tapped his hooved digits together as he nodded his head in understanding, taking a moment to consider his options on how to proceed without giving the lapin the ammo he needed to drag the City Council into this. "Do we have any evidence to suggest the truth one way or the other?" The muscular mammal asked in all seriousness, keeping his voice calm and neutral.

"We do," Deputy Chief Alekseevich replied as he gently tapped his paw atop the frozen surface of his icy desk. "However, at the insistence of Councilman Velveteen, we are having forensics inspect the contents of the video recording on the most minuet _pixel level_ to make certain there was no digital tampering."

Chief Bogo snorted at the obvious tactic to delay justice; the only reason he would demand such an investigation would be if it blatantly showed his sons being idiots. "So what does the video show to begin with?" The African buffalo asked as if he didn't already know.

Seeing the finely-dressed hare glare at him in warning, Konstantin cringed as his ears pressing back against his scalp as his tail brushed back and forth along the floor in aggravation. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't because as much as he wanted to not piss off the rather influential local, the white leopard's superior in the ZPD chain of command had given him direct inquiry. "It shows his sons acting thuggish towards her with one of them pulling a knife; in turn she dispatches them rather handily before hotel security shows up."

The ebony-skinned prey mammal nodded his head, feeling sympathy for his subordinate. He understood that it couldn't have been easy for the feline to admit such in front of the Councilman and the bovine appreciated it. "And do we have the knife?" The horned herbivore queried, trying to focus on practical evidence and not act on emotions like Mr. Velveteen seemed to want to do.

Nodding his head once more, the white-pelted pardus answered, "Yes. The Forensics Department also has it right now, analyzing for prints and hairs for DNA matches and anything else they can." Left unspoken but clear in the leopard's eyes was the addition of, 'to validate the Councilman's narrative'.

"So what are you going to do about your rogue agent, Chief Bogo?" The Councilman practically snarled at the much taller and muscular herbivore. "Someone like that cannot be allowed to roam our fair streets, even if she is the face of Lionheart's Mammal Inclusion Initiative!"

Rolling his eyes at the theatrics on display full force, the head of Precinct One turned his face towards the petite prey mammal. "Well first of all, I would like to see **all** the evidence before I make a judgment call on what to do with her. Secondly..." the buffalo he began slowly, knowing full well that this was going to come back to bite him in the ass later. "I will have to press charges against the one who pulled a knife."

The Tundratown banker saw _**red**_. "YOU WOULDN'T DARE!" Velveteen roared at the Police Chief, the hare's lips pulled back across his muzzle in a sneer. "DO YOU HAVE **ANY** IDEA WHAT _**THAT**_ WOULD DO TO MY SON!?" He demanded of the horned mammal.

The bovine furrowed his thick eyebrows, causing his deep-set brown eyes to narrow as he stared down at the Arctic hare in a finely pressed suit. "Listen Councilman: for your sake we _might_ be able to bend the law a little and ignore the fact that he assaulted a police officer since she was neither on the clock nor uniformed. However, no matter how you look at it, your son attempted to **assault** another mammal with a deadly weapon." He held up his left hand as a motion to stop the lapin before continuing, "I'm being as fair with you as I can. It would far more serious if he were to be slapped with the former set of charges rather than the latter."

Nodding his head, the snow leopard firmly agreed, "It's true. With normal aggravated assault, you can at least post bail and take him home to await his court date. If he were to attack a police officer–especially with a deadly weapon–your son would be held at the station's zoo until his hearing." Although he kept the smile off his muzzle, the feline could admit he appreciated the Chief of the ZPD giving him the opportunity to do this. "While the final sentencing would be up to the judge, it would be a rather simple affair to give your son a slap on the wrist and a few hundred hours of community service." Konstantin held up his paws at the incredulous look the hare gave him. "No judge will go for less than that in this case, even if it's your son."

After all, even if the judicial system was biased towards the rich and powerful more often than not, most judges tended to enforce things pretty straight-forward. The problems occurred at the District, Federal, and Supreme Courts of the country, since those rulings tended to have far-reaching effects beyond just the case in question.

The white-pelted lapin snarled angrily at what he was being told. "You have **got** to be joking." He said in a threatening manner, giving the predatory feline a chance to retract his statement... or else!

Realizing the much smaller prey mammal was going to try and bully the local law enforcement, the ebony-skinned bovine spoke up again. "Actually Deputy Chief Alekseevich is being more than generous with you, due to your position in the city council and standing within Tundratown as the manager of the Snow Bank. I will personally look over the evidence as soon as the department clears it but—"

"The statements are cleared," Konstantin said as he pulled open a drawer of solid ice from the equally frozen water-crafted desk. Grasping a manila folder by his right paw, the predator retrieved it as he slowly rose up from his seat. The rosette-patterned felidae then leaned forward and reached out with the papers, offering them to the Chief of Police.

Leaning forward in his own seat–and thankful to have his butt off the block of ice for a moment or two–the horned herbivore reached out with one hooved hand to grasp it while the other pulled aside his black trench-coat a bit so he could reach fish his glasses in his chest pocket. Slowly withdrawing them, the African buffalo carefully placed his spectacles on the bridge of his muzzle and opened the folder and began to read.

His long ears flattening back and pressing down past his shoulders in irritation as his fellow prey mammal chose to read instead of lead, the Councilman began to speak up, "Now see here, Chief Bogo! We don't have time for—"

"We have plenty of time, _Edward_ ," the horned mammal replied, effectively interrupting whatever the hare had to say even as his eyes scanned across the first written statement. He murmured under his breath a few, 'uh-huh' a number of, 'mmhmm', and a few, 'ah' sounds were voiced as he flipped pages and read through the various reports. "There are quite a few of these," he murmured as he got halfway into them.

Nodding his head at that statement, the uniformed snow leopard replied, "Besides the quartet of Arctic hares involved, we had over two dozen eye-witnesses step forward..." he frowned a little. "Sadly, the vixen who was involved, a red fox identified as off-duty Carmelita Montoya Fox had already checked out of the Snow Palace Resort by the time Precinct Fourteen officers arrived."

Blinking his eyes at that, the horned herbivore brought his right hooved hand up to the side of his head and took off his glasses, staring at the white leopard. "...Two dozen?" As the Deputy Chief nodded his head once more, the prey mammal grunted and put his reading specs back into place before returning to his perusal of the reports, pointedly ignoring the grinding sound of the lapin gritting his teeth in barely restrained rabbit rage.

Finally, when it seemed not much else could be had from reading what amounted to the same account of events over and over again, the Chief of Police closed the manila folder. "Well, it would appear that the stories all line up," Bogo murmured under his breath as he shook his head for a few moments before turning his attention towards the seated banker. "To be blunt about it: if Edwin wasn't your son, he would be facing several years of prison time just from these statements alone," the bovidae officer said as his face set into a deep frown. "Not to mention toxicology on site has shown that both sons were inebriated over the legal limit and the notes here showed they drove in on their jet skis."

"You don't need a license to drive a jet ski," the financially-inclined lapin spoke up in defense of his children.

"Of course not... but you also don't need one to drink and drive," Idriis stated in all seriousness. "Still, that might be to your benefit," he began as he carefully withdrew his glasses from his face. Slipping them back into his chest pocket, he explained, "Being under the influence, while still a criminal charge, is better to have slapped on... the younger son, was it?" He looked over to the snow leopard who nodded his head. "Frankly, it would get him charged with drunk and disorderly conduct rather than aggravated assault..." he explained before allowing himself to smirk. "Although that means we would have to charge BOTH your sons and Edmond would be in legal trouble as well."

The Councilman twitched at that observation. Threatening both his boys!? Oh, that was going _**too far**_! "What else?" He growled out as his paws pressed down so hard into the icy base of the chair's _cushion_ that it cracked.

Once more, the horned herbivore had to school his features, the smile that had been on his face gone without a trace. He couldn't allow the small piece of shit to know just how much he was enjoying this. "To be frank with you Councilman Velveteen, if the evidence that was gathered lines up with the majority of these reports? You've got those two choices: let one son face the courts for a moderate felony or let both of them go before a judge over a high-end misdemeanor. Either way your boys did this to themselves and they will have to face the consequences."

Jumping up to stand on the seat of his chair, the angered hare shouted, "HOW DARE YOU!?" Obviously, he didn't appreciate the fact that the ZPD was actually following the law when it came to their betters.

Pursing his lips together for a moment, the bovine male then opened his mouth and inhaled deeply. Closing his eyes and taking a few seconds to count backwards from ten, Bogo then opened his eyes and explained, "Maybe if you had actually raised your children to respect _other_ mammals instead of sheltering them like precious snowflakes, they would have had some modicum of an idea about how the real world works and not gotten themselves into this situation!" He stood up from his seat and stared down at the much small prey mammal. "To a point: they are **spoiled brats** who finally had reality bite them in their fluffy white tails!"

Oh yes, the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department knew he would be in trouble with the City Council for this, but to be honest with himself? The look of shock that graced the Councilman's face was, in his mind, definitely worth the aggravation that was going to follow.

The Deputy Chief looked at about the room shock and tried to hide his own amusement at the situation. This was better than most daytime talk shows but he didn't have the kind of clout Bogo did to get away with such. While the African buffalo was only beholden to Mayor Lionheart as the City Council still hadn't hired on or promoted a new Police Commissioner since old man Rangifer retired two years back, Alekseevich had all of City Hall atop his shoulders and couldn't take the luxury of mouthing off himself.

Remaining unperturbed by the anger that was about to boil over, the cap buffalo calmly queried, "So, Councilman Velveteen... what will it be? One son or both?"

His fur bristling angrily, the Arctic hare growled out through his teeth, "Listen here, you slab of beef! I'll have you—"

"Keep in mind, _Councilman_ ," Bogo interrupted him again before he said anything he would regret and possibly make things worse for his misbegotten spawn. "That if we don't press charges against your sons, Inspector Fox may take such as a slight against her and she will be more than, shall we say, _vindictive_ when dealing with you or other members of the Mayor's Office and City Council than she might otherwise be." Not that he believed she was but playing on the fears of such specist assholes was an easy thing to do.

The lapin went stock-still almost immediately. His nose twitching for a second, the Arctic hare eyes rolled back to look up at the much larger prey mammal. "Are you saying..."

"That she's corrupt?" At the man's nod, the bovine male let off a snort of disgust. "Heaven's no! She wouldn't go out of her way to make your lives miserable. But she will realize, as you do, that the ZPD is quite... shall we say, _**lenient**_ when it comes to traffic tickets and other small crimes that members of the City Council and their families commit. For the longest time, it's been that as long as no one has gotten hurt over the course of such infractions, we quietly slid them under the rug. However, there are limits and this is **past** them. In fact, I dare say that other police officers, upon hearing about this, may pay extra-special attention to members of the City Council and that would just be a hassle for _everyone_ involved."

The Arctic hare grit his teeth so hard that it both looked and sounded as if his buck teeth were going to break off. "Are you threatening us? Threatening me and my family!?" He practically barked out as his eyes went blood shot, the arteries very prominent and bright red across the white sclera. Velveteen had never known the buffalo to show such brass balls before and frankly, he didn't like it!

Watching as the lapin's nose twitched wildly and his left foot began tapping to the beat of a hummingbird's wing flap, the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department explained, "No more than you are us. You and the other Council members keep pushing for this and that yet you don't seem to understand one simple fact in this instance." He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to the Councilman's. "Your sons crossed the line, _**Edward**_. Even if we tried to sweep this under the rug and let your sons go, the news of what happened would get out–and you **know** that it will!" He stated firmly. "Then the accusations about obstruction of justice would come about, your family would be in the news, and then? Oh look! There would suddenly be a run on the Snow Bank as mammals eagerly pull their money out faster than a bear market on the New York Stock Exchange!"

Bringing his left paw up to his muzzle Konstantin coughed and cleared his throat. "If I may intervene, gentlemen?" He quickly spoke up, hoping to diffuse things before the damn rabbit was set off beyond the point of no return. As they both turned to look at him, the feline continued, "Councilman, if you go for either disorderly conduct or aggravated assault, there can be a plea bargain with the DA to reduce the sentencing if possible. The citizens would see that justice is brought to those who are seen as above the law and are placated. As Chief Bogo has pointed out, the City Council gets away with quite a lot, and ZPD officers feel that we're looking out for their best interests if we don't go falsely accusing another officer. In exchange, well... the worst that happens is that your family has some egg on its face and you'll have to deal with reporters for a few days." He shrugged his shoulders as the lapin male continued to glare. "Hey now, compared to what Chief Bogo has outlined, this is far more preferable for **everyone** involved. Of course, you could decide to, as has been mentioned, try and sweep this under the rug and risk the worst case scenario. I personally wouldn't but that's just me," he said, trying to get both sides to calmly come to a decision.

Continuing to grit his teeth in impotent rage, the Councilman glared at Chief Bogo one more time before turning to the damned predator in the room. "Fine. You bastards can go with the attempted assault charge for Edwin. At least this way in the worst case scenario, I still have **a** son who can take over as needed." He jumped off the chair and onto the carved ice desk of the snow leopard. Glaring straight into the sitting man's face, he commanded, "Call one of your officers and have them escort me to the holding area. I need to post bail for my boys so we can go home and sort things out... you've given me a lot of work."

Slowly, the white leopard nodded his head. He didn't like the obvious hostility coming off the polar prey mammal but he wasn't going to be upset about the Council member's compliance. "But of course, Councilman Velveteen. Would you prefer speed or comfort on your way to lock-up?"

"Whatever you have available is fine. I'm in no mood for anything in particular," he grumbled irritably. The hare needed to get his sons out of the place and contact his lawyers. He was certain his boys would be upset that he wasn't going to waste the money bailing out their harlots but they had already caused him and the Velveteen name enough embarrassment for the day!

"Of course." Konstantin said as he reached over to the phone to his right and picked up in his paw; his pinkie pressing down on a button in the cradle before he brought the receiver to the side of his head. "Hello, Minerva? Yes, it's me. Could you please get someone to pick up the Councilman and take him down to lock-up? No, not for him, but for his sons." He sighed. "Yes I know, just do it. All right, thank you." He hung up the phone before his eyes turned to look at the lapin. "They'll be right out, sir."

The Councilman harrumphed angrily as he turned about to glare at the bovine. "Don't think for a second that this is over, Idriis..." he bit out venomously before he jumped off the desk and made his way for the door, having no stomach for waiting with these two traitors to the Council. Oh, he would fix them, he would fix them good! _But not before I take care of that damned Yiffer_ , he thought angrily. _Damn what the Council wants, I'm doing this_ _ **my**_ _way!_

As the door slammed shut, the horned herbivore carefully dropped back into one of the two chairs; wincing as he felt the cold of the ice try and surge into and throughout his body. As his muscles slowly relaxed, the prey mammal turned to the spotted feline sitting behind the desk. "Nasty little shit, isn't he?"

Rolling his eyes, the felidae let off a little snort. "You have **no** **idea**." Konstantin said before letting off a long-suffering sigh. Shaking his head a few time to clear his thoughts, he turned his attention back to his superior officer. "I'm sorry for making you come down here," the ebony uniformed white leopard apologized. "But when a member of the Council says, 'jump' you make the leap and don't even ask how high."

Clasping his hooved digits together in front of his chest, Bogo nodded his head in understanding. "I know, I know..." he murmured. He was glad to have done this for James but he knew where everyone would be turning their attention to over Carmelita. He just hoped that Mayor Lionheart's Mammal Inclusion Initiative would be worth it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her violet eyes were wide and bright as they managed to reflect what little light was available through the gray clouds of this dull morning but she knew it was her spirit that gave her energy to claim her dream. Dressed in a body-hugging blue leotard and leggings in comparison to everyone else's blue t-shirt and navy gym shorts uniform, Judy barely noticed the slight cool of the air as she kneeled on the grass of the Academy's courtyard alongside her fellow recruits. The petite rabbit and her much larger mammal compatriots were gathered in a circle as they awaited their instructor. While the all the cadets had remained on academy grounds for a day or two as they settled in their dorms, today was the first official day of classes and training. All those present were ready to give it their all; each mammal present hopeful that they had what it took to join the ranks of the prestigious Zootopia Police Department...

Now if only they could just hit the ground running!

However, as alert and energetic as they all were, the numerous Academy inductees remained silent but tense. They were all eager to prove themselves but it was almost instinctual insight that let them know on a base level their ability to remain calm in itself was a test from how their instructor made her way around them, scrutinizing them with such a sharp gaze it felt like daggers were being dropped on them. Despite the slight limp to her gait and the fact a number of the, were even larger than she was, the female polar bear maintained a commanding if not _intimidating_ presence that let them know she was the **top** of the pecking order.

Coach Fuchsia–or to be more precise, retired Major Fuchsia Friedkin–circled about the new recruits, sizing each and every one of them up and making mental notes of what she was going to have to work with for the next half year. Of the fourteen animals that were gathered, nearly half the class was made up of her fellow ursine species but there was still a variety to be had. The current crop also consisted of a trio of large horned prey mammals, a pair of large felines, a hippo that looked out of place, a lone wolf... and the Mayor's special project capped off the menagerie of police hopefuls.

Honestly? She didn't know what that fool Lionheart was even thinking with this and she meant that in the literal sense! To try and discover if there was something special about her, the polar predator spent the past two days personally handling the rabbit's background check once the Assistant Mayor finished signing her in: everything from Judith's medical history to her non-existent criminal records. Even the authenticity of the city seals and signatures on the Academy paperwork were proven legitimate! It made no sense to her! A tiny bunny shouldn't have even made it through the initial screening process let alone to the training phase and yet there she was, bright eyed and bushy tailed even on this drab gray morning that threatened to break out into a thunderstorm.

Yes, a thunderstorm. With the Academy being situated outside of Zootopia itself, the Police Academy was able to experience the rigors of **real** weather and not the artificially-controlled spectacle of the city-state's climate walls. It was something she'd come to appreciate considerably as it added an element of realism to the otherwise controlled conditions of the obstacle course she was going to have them partake. Hopefully it would help weed out the weak links in this new chain that was going to be forged under her watch.

And by, 'weak links' the polar predator was sure as hell referring to Miss Hopps! It didn't matter to the Major that City Hall forcibly steamrolled the rabbit's enrollment into the Academy! Despite all the obvious favoritism, there was no way on Gouda's green earth she would allow such blatant disrespect for protocol pay off for the politicians and their personal project. She was going to treat the powder puff like everyone else! The lapin would either pass or fail by her merits and her merits alone. And from what the female ursine could already see of her, Fuchsia was willing to bet good money that the girl was going to run back home to the countryside with her fuzzy tail tucked between her legs within the week.

 _Time for the moment of truth_ , the white-pelted woman thought as she brought her right paw up to the brim of her ZPD baseball cap and straightened it before making her way around the gathered recruits once more. The time had come to put them through the ringer. "Listen up, Cadets!" Fuchsia called out as she brought her hand down and clasped them together behind her; all heads raised and eyes on her. Good. They could be attentive at least. "Zootopia has twelve unique ecosystems within its city limits. Tundratown," she said as she brought her right paw up and motioned to the obstacle course that represented Zootopia's frozen District. It was an in-ground pool with a sheet of ice atop the surface that had a glacier-like structure that had broken through it at the midpoint; allowing a tall ice wall to rise up and make a water hazard for anyone that couldn't make the climb. A special filtration/temperature unit kept the water at a chilly thirty degrees Fahrenheit and a snow maker set to maximum as it continued to drop snow over said frozen barrier. While the Major could admit it wasn't anything like her neighborhood, the constant fog that rose from the clash of ice and warm air _was_ a nice touch.

But she wasn't done yet. That was only the first round of physical fitness. "Sahara Square," the polar predator continued as her right hand then motioned to the literal sand box past the freezing pool. It was a quarter mile stretch that was filled with so much sand with a curved wall with camouflage-adorned panels at one end and a trio of high-powered industrial fans at the other. To really add to the authenticity, four dozen sunlamps were set up at either corner of the boxed area to mercilessly beat down with blinding light and scorching heat while three dump-trucks were backed up to the pit with plenty of shovels available to add more sand, particularly straight to the fans themselves! In Major Friedkin's professional opinion, the desert section was the absolute worst part of the obstacle course.

But such wasn't the last of the challenges to be faced. "And the Rainforest District, to name a few!" She bellowed out as she then raised her paw high to point at the tail end of the obstacle course. While a literal jungle gym it was **no** kiddy playground! The base of the obstacle run was an inflated rubber barrier that reached a half mile and was filled to the brim with mud; car tire obstacles that practically floated atop the surface lead to the raised wooden platforms and ropes to mimic vines the recruits would have to transverse. Climbing rope, rope monkey bars, even swinging ropes–although the first to try and mimic Tarzebra, Equine of the Apes was **so** getting her foot up their tail hole! And all the while, a massive sprinkler systems went off to make everything as slick as could be.

Coach Fuchsia had yet to meet one recruit that could manage to remain standing on their feet after their first run-through the entirety of the Academy's main obstacle course. It was why while she introduced the newbies to all three aspects at once, she only had them try one at a time first before tossing in mixes and finally having the cadets take on the whole shebang.

Walking into the ring of recruits, the woman's feet contacted firmly with the Academy commons, feeling the blades of grass along the pads of her feet and between her toes each time a foot came down. Her gaze looked back and forth among the various faces, as if trying to burn them into memory, to let these mammals know she was talking directly to _**them**_! "You're going to have to master **all** of them before you hit the streets!" She promised the group, letting them know there was no getting around it. As her eyes turned towards the Mayor's special interest, the polar bear frowned a bit when she saw the rabbit's lack of worry. Deciding to single her out, the ursine woman turned about on the bunny and told her, "Or guess what?" Leaning closer to the hasenpfeffer herbivore, she barked out, " **You'll be dead!** "

Feeling mollified as Miss Hopps now expressed the proper amount of fear and respect for the training to come as she let out a gasp, the polar bear straightened her posture once more and nodded her head. She gazed about at all the recruits once more, deciding how to begin... and while it may have seemed specist of her, she decided to test all the herbivores first to check out how well the ones she considered the weakest of the Cadets could handle things. _Although I better let one sit out and throw in the wolf for plausible deniability_ , the polar bear thought before she began to call out names, her gaze on the male elephant. "Pardrino!" Her steely stare turned to the hippo. "Hamiwitz!" Then to the rhino with a call of, "Tonka!" Then from him, to the timber wolf as she called for, "O'Donald!" And finally, she settled on the tiny rabbit. "And Hopps! To the Sahara Square course's starting line! Everyone else, to the other end and grab a shovel!" She clapped her paws together, making the sound echo out. "PRONTO!"

As the various cadets got up and rushed over to either side of the course as they were told to, Major Friedkin smiled as she saw of those who had to work instead of run the course had the common sense to start pairing themselves up three recruits to a fan. _At least they can do simple math_ , she thought with a bit of relief before she started to make her own way towards the desert relay. By the time she arrived, all the cadets were in place; numerous predators and one prey mammal with shovels in their grasp, ready to start heaping the sand on while the five she had chosen from the class to test run the course were lined up at the opposite end of the sandbox. Coming to stand just outside the line of fans, the Arctic ursine nodded her head and removed a stop watch from her pocket as she barked out in a commanding voice, "All right Cadets! Listen up because I'm only saying this once! As soon as I flip the switch, I want you," she motioned to the quintet getting themselves into a runner's starting position. "To try and crawl your way through the sands! Those fans are going to be running full blast and your fellow recruits are going to make sure it's sandy trails for you! Make it as fast as you can... if at all!"

Judy frowned as she noticed the polar bear's attention on her once more. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn the woman was singling her out in particular. Well, she was going to show her! _Just because I'm a bunny doesn't mean I'm weak!_ The lapin thought with renewed pep and vigor, ready to show the coach who was boss! After all, her people were the salt of the earth! She was used to working in the dirt; a little sand couldn't be _**that**_ different!

Gazing upon the serious faces of all the recruits, particularly the readiness in their eyes, Major Friedkin gripped her watch tightly and took a deep breath, making her chest expand outwards considerably. "Scorching sandstorm!" The polar predator roared at the top of her lungs as she slammed her foot down on the ground switch of the buried high-wattage dual-current power-cord that brought power to that section of the obstacle course. The industrial fans turned on to their full capacity in time with all the light fixtures switching on, causing a sudden rush of heat to blaze across the areas as the ursine woman's thumb pressed down on the button of her watch, starting their time.

The Academy cadets in the Sahara Square obstacle run didn't get one step forward before all of them were forced to drop down into the grainy sands of the obstacle course. The high gust blowing from the fans not only threatened to blow them off their feet but it was also picking up a great deal of sand from the ground and blasting it right at them at a fevered pitch...

...And then the sand started getting shoveled quickly, making the wind take on an almost solid presence of golden sand whipping wildly; he pattern of the current made by the fans visible for all to see. Combined with the heat lamps, it was an effective recreation of sandstorm and everyone on the course were doing their best to keep moving. Despite being the largest of the mammals and the most exposed, elephant was able to keep a steady pace of it; Pardrino using his trunk to his advantage to shield his eyes as best he could. Tonka was keeping up but only because he forced himself to keep going. As much as the rhino tried to use his horn like the elephant was his protruding nose, the rigid nature of it let his blinded to the elements. The real surprise of the large herbivores was the hippopotamus, Hamiwitz! He was leading the pack, front and center! It would appear that having smoothed skin for sleeker aquatic movement allowed him to be more aerodynamic on land in such a situation. O'Donald was following right behind him, using the hippo's larger size to his advantage, although he had to keep whipping his head back to keep the sand out of his nose.

And then there was Hopps. Honestly, she was doing far better than anyone would have predicted a rabbit could have done. It would appear that her smaller stature worked in polar opposite to the pachyderm's size. Whereas he was being whipped by the winds every which way with his large ears flapping wildly, as if threatening to see if an elephant could fly, the wild current created by the industrial fans could barely find purchase on the small prey mammal. The only reason she was trailing behind the others was due to the fact she could only get so far at once on such short limbs as the falling sands threatened to bury her with each move she made.

 _I can do this_ , Judy thought as she gritted her teeth together _. It's just dirt. Hard, dry silicate perhaps but still it's just earthy minerals_ , the lapin surmised as she mentally overanalyzed her current situation, the woman desperate to rationalize to herself just why she could do this. _It's no different from the storms that come through Bunnyburrow during summer, just a lot dryer!_ She slowly raised her head, the rabbit's ears flapping behind her wildly as she did so. Slowly, she carefully opened her eyelids in narrow slits in an effort to protect her eyes from the high winds and flying grains of sand. It was a genuine effort on her part just to see but she needed to figure out just how much longer she had to go before she reached the end!

Unfortunately, the grey-pelted bunny had just enough time to see as a large mass of sand came flying directly towards her; her recruits overzealous in shoveling loads and loads of ground stone and dirty into the fans. She had only a split second to close her eyes and duck down and hopefully not get caught but it wasn't enough. As soon as she lowered her head, the rabbit was covered in a massive amount of sand... only her fluffy tail visible amidst her impromptu burial mound.

Nodding her head, Fuchsia could only call it like as she saw it. "You're dead, bunny bumpkin!"

The small pile of sand shifted a bit. Okay, so that didn't go to plan. She still had other obstacle courses to try and classes to take on! _Oh sweet Cheeses, give me the strength I need to persevere_ , Judy thought as she tried to dig her way out... only to realize she had a bit too much sand atop of her to dig out. Not to mention she was suddenly noticing the severe lack of oxygen she was dealing with.

Oh yes, Miss Hopps was going to find herself ending up in the Nurse's Station quite a bit. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Humming a little tune, the buff yet feminine badger in military fatigues continued to clean the interior of a length of steel tube with a oil rag she had draped over her right paw, trying to clean the space of leftover particles from her earlier buffing with each caress she took. Her current pet project was taking time but she was more than happy to do it. Oh, she couldn't wait to finish this puppy and unveil it to her tenant! The vixen was going to positively freak!

Of course, whether it would be with delight or shock, the mustelidae was certain the younger predator was going to freak!

However, as this was actually one of her quieter moments, Honey was able to catch the sounds of feet hitting the steel pipe bars of the bunker's ladder, one clank after another... the sort of sound that could be made by either hooves or thick shoes making contact. And since she knew no damned prey mammals personally, that left her with predator options.

And only one wore shoes.

Cursing her luck under her breath, the older woman was quick to place the soldered metal pipe down on the work bench and pushed it towards the rear against the backboard before reaching past it and pulling a blanket over the workstation and her tools. She didn't want the female red fox to see what she was up to just yet.

Taking a moment to make certain that such a setup looked as neat as she could, the female mustelidae then turned about to face towards the entrance to her bunker. She smiled as she saw the legs and tail tip come into view, proving the mammal entering her real home was indeed the lovely vixen renting out her, 'attic space'. "Ah! Greetings, Carmelita. It's always so nice to have visitors..." she said sweetly as her dark brown eyes were drawn to the white plastic bag the other woman was carrying. "Say now... did you bring me a meal?" She asked curiously. From the way it was shaped with containers and wrapped items, she could tell the woman had gone the extra length for her.

Getting herself close to the bottom of the ladder before she merely jumped off, the Hispanic vulpine turned about to face her landlady. "I sure did, Honey!" She chirruped proudly as she took a few steps towards the older woman, closing the distance between them. "I felt terrible about not being around last night so I wanted to make sure I brought you something extra special." She held up the white bag for emphasis before explaining, "So I brought you a variety of things from Wannabite's."

The badger blinked her eyes once, twice. "Wannabite's?" Honey asked with some rising glee. It was one of the few things she missed about topside. Rations were fine and all but there was only so much variety they could offer... and _none_ of them had the, 'unhealthy grease' of fast food.

Sure, Nick brought her pizzas now and again but the same kind of liquid fat over and over again could get boring. Variety was the spice of life, after all!

Placing her right hand on her hips, the navy blue-tressed vulpine lifted her left paw high. "Yep: hot and fresh for your enjoyment!" Carmelita replied with smirk as she shook the bag with a flick of her wrist.

The smile that blossomed on Honey's muzzle threatened to envelope her face. "Then you are very welcome here in my abode!" The woman happily chimed as she motioned for the lovely Latina to enter deeper into her bunker.

In under a minute, the bag was set on a small table, opened, and unwrapped, leading to Honey's moans of delight as she bit into the food the only sound in the bunker.

"So go~oooood," she mumbled, eyes closed in ecstasy as she reveled in the flavors. It was still piping hot and with just the right touch of lemon zest and a crispness of fresh lettuce for an accentuating crispness and cool sensation made for an absolutely **divine** experience.

The Hispanic vulpine nodded her head in agreement. "Amen. That food truck makes the best lobster rolls I've ever eaten!" And considering all the places the vixen had gone to while globe-hopping as part or Interpol let alone the access she had to luxury cuisine back in Paris that was saying something. "I tell you, if Stripeamol could get his hooves on some real meat, he could make some absolute wonders."

The badger's jaw moved up and down, her cheeks puffed out from how they were filled with the culinary goodness of cooked crustacean. After chewing a few more times, she swallowed her mouthful before asking, "Oh? You don't call this real meat?" She waved the uneaten portion of her sandwich at the other woman while declaring, "It doesn't get much better than lobster!" She could think of one thing but admittedly, it had been even longer since Mrs. Badger had enjoyed a fine piece of swordfish.

Nodding her head, Officer Fox could agree, "When it comes to seafood, most definitely. I'm just annoyed that this city doesn't allow for red or white meat."

Raising an eyebrow, the older predator stared at the vulpine with confused expression. "What are you talking about?" She asked, a curious tone to her voice. "They do allow for it: insects and tofu."

"I mean beef and pork," the Latina red fox bluntly replied. Frowning a bit, she then firmly added, "Trust me. No matter what the Zootopia government tells you, tofu and soy products are **not** meat!"

Honey blinked her eyes at the other woman's outburst, quite surprised by her admission. "So... you want to hunt the herbivores?"

The vixen snorted at that. "Not really," Carmelita replied as she waved the question off. "I'm just more used to a diet with more alternatives." Alternatives that included bacon and the numerous ways it could be served!

Considering that for a moment, the older predator couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "You make it sound like we need to have a Purge."

The female red fox blinked her bright brown eyes at that statement. "Purge?" She repeated cautiously. "How do you even know about that movie?" From what Nicholas had told her, the woman hadn't left the bunker in nearly thirty years!

The badger merely shrugged her shoulders. "Nick brings me some movies," Honey responded as she motioned with her paw to a corner of her safe haven from the rest of the world.

Turning her gaze towards where her landlord was pointing, the orange-pelted vulpine caught sight of a wooden-framed set with front dials and bunny ears antennae atop it; the whole setup resting on an old, slightly rusted wheeled metal cart. "Is that a CRT?" She asked quietly, certain that cathode ray tubes had been long since discontinued.

Nodding her head firmly, the badger proudly added, "And dual Beta MAX and VHS Player!"

"..." It was official. Honey had truly been down in her bomb shelter for **way** too long. _Still_ , Carmelita couldn't help but begin to think. _Kudos to Nick for wanting to keep her entertainment up to date... even if he is likely either purchasing or making bootleg copies for her_. The vulpine policewoman was pretty certain VHS tapes stopped being professionally produced around the turn of the new millennium.

Such a theory was further confirmed when the vixen spotted a Walkman, an old eight-track/stereo combo–which begged the question of just how she even _got_ a radio signal inside a sealed bunker–and... an Atari?

...

...All of it. The Interpol Inspector was one-hundred percent convinced all of the badger's media was bootlegged. The Purge had been released well after VHS bit the dust and she knew for damn certain that _**Halo**_ hadn't been released on the Atari!

Realizing the older mustelidae woman was staring at her as she hadn't said anything for a bit, the vixen exhaled slowly. "It is more culture shock than anything else," she continued, focusing on Honey once again. "Where I grew up, where I worked, we had beef, pork, bacon..." she trailed off in her listing of delicious meats, unable to keep herself from letting off a happy little chirr at the thought of bacon.

The older predator stared, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Did it come from people?" Honey asked with a serious tone.

"I didn't ask, they didn't tell," Carmelita replied sweetly. As the other woman continued to stare at her oddly, the lovely Latina more calmly explained, "I'm just joking with you on that. As for how I've really had meat, I would like to point out there is such a thing as feral beasts."

"AH! Those creatures," the badger said in complete understanding as she took another bite of her lobster roll, enjoying the warm steam that practically rolled off from each break and flushed across her face with its sweet aroma; nostrils flaring to inhale the scent. Taking a moment to chew before swallowing once again, the mustelidae woman continued with, "We have a few of those in the dependent territories... primarily Cowslip County."

That response made the vixen blink her eyes. "Cowslip?" She queried.

Nodding her head firmly, the badger went on to answer, "Sure. It's a settlement just Southeast of the city. It's cattle country out there and I **don't** mean your friendly neighborly bovines. With all the feral cows grazing there in herds, the place has become Zootopia's prime source of dairy products. The rodent populations swear you won't find a better source of cheese in the world!"

The Latina beauty mulled over that, becoming genuinely intrigued. "I see..." she murmured softly before raising her head to look up at the older woman. "Tell me: do you have any idea why they don't use them for other dietary purposes in Zootopia?" Carmelita asked curiously. If the beasts were available, the city government should have used them to the fullest.

Bringing her free paw up to strong her chin, Honey thought about that for a moment, mulling over things. "It all comes down to temptation, really," she spoke, finishing her meal. "I mean, the only difference between them and us is that we can think, speak..." the woman trailed off for a moment as she thought about that. "Well, most of us anyway," the female predator grumbled, remembering a few mammals she had known in her life that could barely pass the needed IQ test to prove sentience.

"Anyway," the badger continued, shaking those thoughts from her head. "Add to that scent, our supposed inner natures and whatnot, and you're just asking for trouble." At least that's how the prey politicians had rationalized things when they passed those laws so long ago.

Raising her right hand, Carmelita opened her mouth to respond... but closed it, her muzzle snapping shut with an audible click. She would be lying to herself if she were to say she hadn't found herself salivating around some of the swine-citizens which, more often than not, made up the majority of police officers in Europe, particularly in Paris. "Okay, point taken. But don't you think it would actually help lower any temptation that would be had in the first place, considering predators could get their fill of meat elsewhere?"

"That's why the prey politicians went as far as to at least allow us to have seafood," the middle-aged mustelidae replied as she held up the uneaten half of her lobster roll before popping the entire thing into her mouth in one go, vigorously chewing in a rather noisy fashion. Swallowing the crustacean goodness, the older badger made a show of licking her lips in satisfaction before returning her attention to her tenant. "Because bugs just aren't enough. We would need to eat far more insect than we would fish to be full."

The Hispanic vulpine nodded her head, causing her mane of navy blue tresses to bob with the motion. "Not to mention," she interjected. "That while insects are–at least on paper–a good source of protein, they do nothing to satisfy to actual _craving_ for meat."

" **Exactly**!" Honey agreed as she was already reaching to another one of the wrapped items that her friend bought for her from the food truck. She slowly pulled back the wax papers to reveal what had to be the thickest grilled cheese sandwich she'd ever seen. "And you even put tomato in it! Gouda bless you, dear." Admittedly, it was doing tricks like that which actually helped the cravings. It was amazing how dairy protein with the right amount of texture could do wonders in that regard. "I tell you, it was a Goudasend that when our boys returned from the Pacific at the end of Zoo War II they brought tofu with them!" The chewiness and texture were wonderful!

Nodding, Carmelita nibbled on her own share of the food, her muzzle slowly digging into her lobster roll... albeit with lack of her usual gusto. It was a shame how the predators in Zootopia had been guilt-tripped if not brainwashed into accepting that red meat just wasn't a thing they could have. The younger generation seemed to have the desire but past a certain age, it seemed such was a foreign concept for the carnivore population.

Noticing the younger woman's near-stillness, Honey decided to offer her a lifeline. "You know, if you drive around four hours or so out outside of the city limits, you'll find they have these, 'hunting preserves' you can go to where you can live out the whole, 'wild urge' that predators still have," the badger said in all seriousness. "They even have one or two for the herbivores that for some odd reason, want to 'hunt' their plants."

Carmelita blinked at that. "Hunt... veggies?" she asked, the disbelief she felt prevalent in her tone of voice. How would one even begin to hunt vegetables!?

Honey merely shrugged in response. Obviously, she had no clue how it was done with prey mammals either.

After mulling over that for a few moments, the vixen looked up from her lobster roll and to the older predator who was vigorously chewing a bit of her grilled cheese sandwich. "...How do you even know about those anyway?" The Latina Inspector chirruped. She doubted the woman would have seen anything like it on TV.

Swallowing a mouthful of food, Honey smacked her lips to clear her throat as met the other woman's gaze. "Nick brings me the paper. The mail also had a bunch of advertisements for them too," Honey offered, before putting her sandwich down on the wax paper. She then got up and began looking around to see if she had kept any of them. "Let's see, let's see... bill... bill... junk mail... bill... anthrax-laced letter... bill... bill... envelope impregnated with LSD... bill... two-month-old copy of the New York Compost... bill..." she muttered as she looked over the messy stack of papers that cluttered one of the tabletops in her bunker.

With a bead of sweat trailing down the side of her head from listening to the badger's musings as she shifted through her mail, the vixen raised her right hand and told her, "It's all right. I'm sure such businesses are booming because they're outside of Zootopia but cater to the city-state's residents." After all, she couldn't imagine regular ZS predator citizenss needing to chase down feral beasts when they could simply walk down the street to McDoberman's and get a Big Mac or head to an Arfby's for a Roast Beef Deluxe. "But I don't think such is for me."

The older woman paused in her mail sifting. "Ah. I see..." she then shrugged her shoulders and returned to the table. Upon sitting down, the female carnivore happily picked up her grilled cheese in both paws so she could chow down on it.

Watching the badger begin to attack her second sandwich with gusto, the lovely Latina raised one of her navy blue eyebrows high enough that it disappeared into her hairline. "...Shouldn't you wash your hands before returning to eat? I mean... I would've sworn I heard you say that at least one of those letters was contaminated."

Shrugging her shoulders, Honey quickly swallowed her bite of food, causing her neck to expand out before contracting back into place. The female mustelidae then raised her head to look at the lovely female red fox and replied, "Oh please! I got it back in 2002, when sending Anthrax letters to those you hated were all the rage. I'm sure all the virus microbes have died by now... well... mostly sure anyway."

Nodding her head slowly to that, Carmelita decided she really needed to get some hand sanitizer for the place... and a hazmat suit for herself before she came down into the bunker again as well as make sure Honey didn't have any _other_ biological weapons on hand.

She was **not** going to die in this house and become a local rumor... or _worse_ , the subject of one of those ghost hunter reality shows they had on TV.

"Want a bite?" Honey asked, effectively derailing the Hispanic policewoman's train of thought.

"...No. That is to say, no thank you," the vulpine woman calmly responded.

Shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner, Honey brought the other half of her grilled cheese up and dug into it once more. "Anyway, speaking of those hunting preserve things, I believe Nick tried to start one just for the local kids... but I don't think it ended well."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Three Years Ago..._

"...Not only no, but HELL **NAH**!" cried Finnick... as he stood there inside of a tiny costume.

"Oh come on," Nick replied as he smirked down at the vulpine covered in old reptile leathers. "The kids are only armed with NERF guns."

Glaring angrily at his partner-in-somewhat-crime, the desert fox replied, "I am not an animal! I am a Mammal being!"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nicholas replied, "Of course not! You are a raptor! Petite, vicious, smart enough to open doors, and—HE'S RIGHT HERE, KIDS!" The crimson-pelted canid shouted at the top of his lungs to the resounding cheers of youthful voices that followed.

Stampeding towards the petite vulpine dressed as in an outfit that was in close approximation to a velociraptor and the red fox decked out in white pants, shirt, glasses, and holding a cane adorned with a piece of orange plastic on the handle, all the cubs and kits were pumping the pressure gauges of their NERF guns as they cried, "GET THE DINO!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I think it ended because of some sort of accident," the badger continued to explain. "When my Little Nicky came by to talk about it, he was wrapped in numerous bandages and walking with a limp."

Carmelita stared with wide eyes at her landlady for a moment. "I swear! Nick really makes me worry about him sometimes!" As the badger gave her a curious look, the vulpine woman explained, "For example, would you believe that just this morning, he risked slipping off the ledge of a hotel window just to throw out empty bottles and wrappers just to avoid having to pay for using the hotel mini-bar? We were on the top floor and there he was, practically hanging out the window and ready to sky dive onto one of the roofs below us!"

To that, Honey blinked her eyes once, twice. "I don't believe it."

"I know, right!?" The vixen cried out in exasperation. "I mean, there's no way—"

"He would ever have access to a hotel with a mini-bar," the female badger interjected. "Now, I know Wilde a lot better than most mammals, and let me tell you something! There is _no_ _ **way**_ my Little Nicky would even spring for a hotel room to get that access to a mini-bar in the first place. My Nicky is a thrifty one; can squeeze a penny so hard he had Lincoln pleading for mercy!"

That response made the canid woman blink her bright chocolate eyes a few times in rapid succession. "...I can believe that..." she replied slowly as she took a moment to consider what she knew of her fellow red fox. "But the point is, we had a hotel room and—"

" **YOU WENT TO A HOTEL WITH NICK**!?" The older mustelidae asked with excitement, her dark brown eyes so wide they managed to catch and reflect the emergency lighting of the bunker. "O~oooh, tell me! Who's idea was it? Did Nicky actually ask you to be his special someone? Were you two at it all night long? Did you scream each other's name as soul-mates!?" She queried, prattling off questions in rapid succession.

The vixen went so flush with embarrassment that the crimson of her blush managed to show up through her orange facial fur. "NO!"

Honey was not deterred. "Why not? Was it performance anxiety? Was he too stuffed from the mini-bar? Were you? You know alcohol causes some issues. If you want, I can share some methods I know of that works well—"

"NO!" The vulpine shrieked in exasperation. She couldn't help but feel self-conscience by how forward the other woman was going about such things. _I swear, it's like Honey has_ _ **no**_ _filter whatsoever!_ She thought, feeling completely off her game by such.

The badger was silent for a long moment, simply staring at the younger woman sitting across from her at the table. "...Are you _**sure**_ the ways you know work? Did you try them?"

"We didn't do anything!" The poor vixen cried, absolutely flustered by how the badger... well... lived up to her species namesake and **badgered** her. "I got a complimentary night's stay by saving the child of a retired mafia Don and it was just easier to lay low for the night instead of having to try and drive out into the blizzard-like conditions of the Tundratown District at night where the men of a rival active Don could have been on the lookout for us!"

Honey actually frowned a bit, becoming crestfallen as her hopes for surrogate foxy grandkits started to fade. "Oh... so Nicky wasn't able to get into your panties then."

"..."

...The hope was reignited. "Did he?"

The poor Hispanic vulpine went flush once more. "Not... in the usual sense, per se," she cautiously admitted. She wasn't about to humiliate the fox but she always had trouble simply lying to anyone.

"AH!" The middle-aged mustelidae cried out in understanding. "So my little Nicky got so sloshed that he ended up doing the wrong hole: got'cha. You know, the same thing happened during my Honeymoon with Harold. On the second night he got drunk with a few skunks at the hotel bar and when he came back to our honeymoon suite? POW!" She cried out as she smacked her right fist into her open left palm for effect. "Tore the proverbial petals right off my rosebud! I couldn't sit down comfortably until the following week!"

Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, Carmelita just stared. Her mouth began slowly opening and closing in shock, unable to say anything as she tried to comprehend both what she heard and formulate a response to what Honey thought _had_ occurred.

Taking the younger female carnivore's silence as confirmation, Honey came around the table. Upon approaching the vixen, she calmly patted her on the shoulder. "There, there my dear... I find it best that after the first time, its best to keep the option prepared in case they, 'accidentally miss' again." She let off a wistful sigh. "I mean, Harold did it about twice a month and MAN! Did he get into it! He'd say he wouldn't remember but then he'd smile and I—"

"THAT ISN'T WHAT HAPPENED!" The vixen wailed in sheer embarrassment; her blush going damn near nuclear in its illumination.

Tsking, the middle-aged woman went on to tell her younger tenant, "My, oh my... so much screaming yet I don't hear you calling out my poor little Nicky's name..." she sighed in a very tired fashion. "That's just how it goes when they're really drunk. Trust me, dearie: as soon as he's up to task while sober, you'll wonder how you ever went without it!" She told the lovely Latina with a bit of merriment. Considering how nonexistent her own sex life had been since her husband passed on, Honey would have gladly put up with more opposing traffic through the normally, 'Exit Only' door.

The poor Interpol Inspector twitched... a lot. "I mean it!" The Hispanic vulpine snapped, gritting her teeth as she tried to cover her face with both hands. "Nothing sexual happened! All I mean is that Nick got my panties! That is all!" At least she still had a clear enough mind to know she shouldn't out the poor fox as actually having worn them.

That made the badger blink her eyes a couple of times in shock. "...Nick had a chance to spend the night with you... and all he wanted to do was a panty raid!?"

"...Sure... we'll go with that..." Carmelita grumbled. Overall it _was_ the best excuse she could come up with. That her landlady came to the conclusion herself made it easier for the vulpine to go along with.

It took Honey a few moments but eventually she settled with shaking her head in saddened fashion. She was going to have to sit that boy down and have a talk with him. _He should know better at his age!_ The badger mentally griped before pausing in her thought and tilting her head as a realization went through the back of her head. Had she given him, 'The Talk'? She hadn't relied on TV and public school to do it for her, had she?

Again, the middle-aged mustelid shook her head. He could still deal with a refresher course, especially if he was only interested in the cloth and not was under it. _Although such really does explain why he would even go to a Victoria's Secret for a job_ , the woman thought bitterly before speaking aloud, "Be that as it may, you shouldn't worry. I'm sure a lovely, experienced woman such as yourself has what it takes to see Nicky through this and make a man out of him yet!"

"...Oh! Have you tried the clam chowder?" The vixen offered rather abruptly, desperately trying to change the subject as she went to try and sift through the contents of the bag to pick out one of the Styrofoam cups. Like **hell** she was going to dignify the badger's comment with a response!

Honey just gave the lovely Latina a lopsided grin. "Trust me, Miss Fox. Nick truly is one of the good ones. I can think of how a lot of foxes ended up in this city. That my little Nicky tries so hard to make an honest buck in Zootopia is a miracle in and of itself!" She sighed sadly at the thought of such. "I just wish he would actually enjoy some of his hard-earned cash. Busting his back for so long while accepting so little... living life as if he were some pauper..."

Her ears flattening back, Carmelita stayed quiet about that. She didn't want to ruin Honey's impression of her adopted son–even as the badger herself ruined the canid cop's sanity. Nor did she want to ruin the woman's idea that Nick was bringing in large amounts of cash. No. It was best to just nod in agreement, keep the conversation focused on food and not her own hijinks last night, and hope to God almighty she made it out of the bunker without her skin permanently becoming the same shade as her fur if not brighter.

After a few more minutes of eating in silence, the vixen finally replied, "Well if it's all right, I think I'm going to call it early for the day and head to bed. I'm beat."

Blinking her dark brown eyes, the badger lowered her head as she raised her right arm, taking a good look at her wrist. "But it's only two in the afternoon..."

"And I spent yesterday getting shot at and fighting for my life–twice–and I had to deal with a crazy rabbit that come at me with a knife this morning at breakfast. I'm mentally and physically drained and, frankly, my pants are _chaffing_." She said in all honestly. Seriously, how did men deal with boxers? Nick's kept bunching up on her every which way and became uncomfortable as hell after a while! She wanted to strip down, get in her _**REAL**_ undies and flop onto bed.

As she tried to get up from the table, Carmelita–however–quickly learned she said the wrong thing as she heard Honey squeal in giddiness.

"He left you commando!?" The badger gasped out in a tone that bordered between being excited and scandalized.

The orange-pelted vulpine twitched. "I—"

"So my little Nicky left with a trophy!" The bunker-dweller chimed with absolute delight. "Don't worry, Inspector!" she cheered, grabbing the Latin fox by her hands. "I'm sure my baby bandit will come back to the scene of the crime! Now, as for some free advice on how to properly lay a trap to catch him..." she finished with a wink, trying to pull Carmelita back to the table.

Lowering her head as she tried to suppress the embarrassment she felt, the woman could only groan in despair. "Really, Mrs. Badger! I'm fine! I don't need any help laying a trap for him or anything!" Especially since she wasn't interested in Wilde that way! Sure, he was a kind and interesting enough guy with a lot of... er... 'quirks', per se... but she just couldn't bring herself to see him in the light Honey was so desperate to have her.

Sadly for her, the middle-aged predator wasn't going to take, 'no' for an answer. "Trust me, Carmy!" She chimed, making said red fox cringe at the nickname. "I'm certain you'll be able to improve him! Sure, he's a fixer-upper but when it comes to genuinely successful men you can't do much better in this city without going into either the boys in blue or..." she paused to shudder. "Politicians!"

Raising her right hand up to her face, the Hispanic vulpine just rubbed her forehead. "Yes, I'm sure he'd be worth the effort and I admit the city isn't exactly filled with interesting bachelors..." and boy, did she ever know thanks to her previous assignment with the ZPD! "But I'm not really looking for anything at the moment, not until I get myself settled."

Taking a moment to calm herself once more, the badger stood there silently as she blinked her eyes a couple of times. "Okay, I understand, dear."

"...You do?" Somehow, Carmelita seriously doubted that.

The badger offered a firm nod of her head in response. "There's nothing wrong with taking a few test drives, or checking out the open houses, or whatever the heck you kids call it these days," Honey continued. "Why, before Harold, I had a few boyfriends, oh let me tell you!"

His shoulders sagging as she lowered her head, the vixen sighed. "Please don't," the Latina muttered under her breath.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Of all the things a certain bovidae woman expected from this morning, the question of, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?" being roared in her face by an amazingly frantic Mayor of Zootopia had been the last thing on her mind as a possibility. So bringing the hooved digits of her hands up to either side of her head to readjust her glasses after the force of the man's screaming dislodged them, the little sheep squeaked out, "Where have _I_ been?"

"YES!" Leodore snapped as he slammed one of his massive paws down atop his desk. "There has been a metric ton of paperwork that I've had to deal with on my own while having to handle all the calls! Not to mention it's been up to me to put out all the political brushfires the City Council keeps pulling my attention to! They're putting me to my wits end and I sure as hache-eee-double-hockey-sticks don't have the time for it! _**WHY DO YOU THINK I MADE YOU MY ASSISTANT MAYOR IN THE FIRST PLACE**_!?"

The poor little lamb blinked her bright peridot-green eyes once, twice, thrice as she looked up at the menacing–albeit haggard–visage of her predator boss through the coke-bottle thick lenses of her glasses. "...For the sheep vote?" She offered.

The lion's jaw opened... only to stay there for a moment. It worked up and down silently a few times before the large mane-adorned feline finally managed to verbally grumble, "Okay, there is _that_." Settling back into his chair, the Mayor brought his paws up before his muzzle once more, tapping his fingertips together. "But that _isn't_ the only reason, Smellweather," he said, making the woman cringe as he was already back to mangling her proper name. "I need you to handle all the minor necessities of day-to-day affairs that someone like me shouldn't be bothered with. Screening my calls, making my coffee, forging my signature on documents I don't have timed to be bogged down with reading–those kinds of things!" He lowered his hands once more, spreading them out to firmly press the pads down on the table. "AND YOU GO AND TAKE A VACATION WITHOUT A WORD AT THE MOST IMPORTANT TIME IN MY CAREER!?"

"Where have I been?" Bellweather twitched a few times as her irritation at everything _she_ had been put through over the past week started to come to a head. "You mean besides being stuck out in the sticks trying to recruit animals for this Mammal Inclusion Initiative of yours? Besides trying to get a ride back to town? Besides falling into a mud pie that's bigger than me and being so gross that it took me **EIGHT HOURS TO GET THE SMELL OUT**!?" She took a deep breath as the Mayor reeled slightly from her outburst. "Oh, nowhere at all..."

Blinking his brown eyes a couple of times, Mayor Lionheart just stared at the unhinged pre mammal. When death via sheep rage didn't happen, the predator politician lowered his arms and gently rapped his finger-tips atop of his desk in rapid succession, causing the claws to add a poignant clacking sound as they did. "That... doesn't sound too good..." he begrudgingly admitted. Clenching his left paw, the lion raised it to his mouth. Couching into his fist to clear his throat, he then lowered the hand and began to speak in a clearer, firmer voice. "Still, why didn't you come back sooner? I mean you had a ride back!"

The sheep's eyebrows furrowed into a glare... which admittedly was a surprisingly cute look on her. Bringing her hands to her hips, Dawn glared at the mammal in the chair as she snapped, "They never showed up, Mayor Lionheart!"

Again, the large feline male was silent, needing a few seconds to mull over that response. "...Well," he began slowly. "Why didn't you take the monorail? The Zootopia Express has a Station down in the sticks for a reason!"

"Ye~ _eeaaaaah_..." the woman drawled out sarcastically. "And unlike the monorails that run throughout the City, it's **not free**! All you did was give me a shoestring budget and throw me out the proverbial wolves!" She was only lucky that it wasn't the literal ones out there!

In what was starting to become a pattern, Leodore had to blink his bright brown eyes. "...Shoestring? But we don't wear shoes," he said, not used to such an expression. In fact, the only shoelaces he knew of where those on Officer Fox's boots.

He had to fight an involuntary shudder from the memory of said vixen breaking his kneecap with the steel-toe on those things.

" **EXACTLY**!" The poor little sheep bleated at the top of her lungs. "It was _**horrible**_! I had to ride in the back of an open pick up and they hit a bump too hard and then they stopped so suddenly and then I went flying and... and... and..." the trembling bovidae fell to her knees as tears started to fall down her cheeks. "Sheep aren't meant to fly... not like _that_..."

The Mayor blinked his eyes at his Assistant's small breakdown. In a situation like this, a person would be up in arms to help their fellow mammal in need. He could see the woman was overworked, under-paid–at least as far as it came to her work budget–and just run through the ringer. A better mammal would be there to comfort Miss Bellweather and tell her to take the rest of the week off and come back refreshed on Monday.

However, Leodore was a bit more self-centered than _that_. Still, at least even the politician had enough common sense to realize he should back off for the moment and let his poor worried woolen secretary vent. "That is horrible to hear, Smellweather," he said in a comforting tone, even as he continued to screw up her name on reflex. Pushing his chair back, he came around his desk to stand beside the woman. Once he was, he brought a hand down, gently patting her on the head.

 _So fluffy_ , he thought with cub-like delight as sheep normally wouldn't let him get this close to them, even when he was on the campaign trail. _It's like cotton candy_ , the predator politician mentally squeed in delight before suavely telling her aloud, "It's a truly terrible you went through, Smellweather... but it's over now. I'm certain you've at least managed to fill the Police Academy with the cold, tired, and huddled animal masses that will give the Mammal Inclusion Initiative the shot in the arm it so desperately needs..."

"..."

"...Right?" Leodore queried in a hopeful tone, the woman's silence rather unnerving.

The woman took a deep breath, before muttering in a voice that was as flat as an open bottle of soda left out on a warm day, "I did what I could."

The Mayor twitched. "...But you found **someone** , _right_?" He asked in a frantictone. As his Assistant Mayor remained silent, the lion knelt down besides Bellweather. Grasping her by her shoulders, he began to shake the much smaller wool-adorned as if she were a rag doll. "TELL ME YOU FOUND SOMEONE! IF YOU DIDN'T, THE COUNCIL IS GOING TO HAVE MY BALLS!" And by that, he meant _**literally**_! After what happened to her nephew, Harriet threatened she would castrate him if he screwed up again. _I don't want to lose my balls to the Beaver mafia!_ He mentally wailed.

Subjected to the merciless inertia of physics, the little lamb lady yelped and fried out as her outfit was disheveled; her glasses nearly flying off from her face. "Muh-Mayor Luh-Lionheart!" The poor sheep bleated out in shock as her limbs flailed beyond her control. "Puh-please stop shuh-shaking me-e-e-e-eeee!"

"TELL ME WE HAVE AT LEAST ONE RECRUIT!" He bellowed out in desperation, the man still wagging the wool-coated woman as if one were trying to dry out a carpet. If he had at least the one, he could have someone to replace Carmelita as the face of the Initiative!

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I cuh-cah-can't t-t-t-talk luh-luh-li-li-like thi-i-i~I~I-iiiisss!" The poor prey mammal cried out, feeling as though she were going to come apart if he kept this up any longer.

And just like that, the lion stopped. "...Oh..." Mayor Lionheart said, in a surprisingly calm and quiet manner as he carefully lowered the woman back onto her feet. "Sorry about that... I'm a bit overwhelmed and under the gun at the moment. My nerves are frazzled!" He took a big breath to fully calm himself and have the moment to collect his thoughts again. "So please, _**please**_ tell me we have someone who can replace Officer Fox!"

Although she now felt the urge to throw up, the name her boss used caught her attention: foxes were always a cause for alarm. "Excuse me, did you say, 'Officer Fox'?" And the man's nod, she queried, "I thought we were supposed to be receiving an Officer Montoya?"

The lion stared at his Assistant Mayor as if she had grown a second head. "Haven't you heard? It's been on all the major news stations! Where have you been: hiding under a rock!?"

"..."

"...Right, Bunnyburrow..." the man murmured in understanding.

Taking a deep breath in relief as the dumb pred could understand at least that much, the petite sheep queried, "Right. So please tell me: what's this about an Officer Fox? I thought we were getting an Inspector Montoya–a Chihuahua –on loan from Interpol."

The Mayor let off a heavy sigh of defeat. Taking out his cell phone, he turned on his YouView App and brought up the video streaming web-site. "Just take a look. It's easier for me to just show you, rather than spend the time trying to explain it."

Taking the leonine politician's phone from him–the scale of device being more like a touch pad computer when compared to her–with her left hand, the poor sheep used her right to put her glasses back onto place. _And people laugh when they see me wear a glasses strap_ , she thought with annoyance as she clicked the video he highlighted, noticing the title was, 'Zootopia Outfoxed'. She needed to wait merely thirty seconds before enough of the video downloaded so she could see it in action.

Needless to say, she was both shocked and disappointed as she saw and listened to the address made by one Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox. She recognized the uniform of the city's as well as the fact the vulpine woman was giving her speech from the lobby of Precinct One. Sure the woman had much to say but all the little lamb could focus on was the simple fact that Lionheart had hired on a vixen as the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative.

Having seen more than enough to get the point, the petite prey mammal shut the video off halfway into it. Tilting her head up to look at the Mayor, she quietly asked, "How furious is the City Council?"

"They want to castrate me, turn the Police Chief into a trophy, and to top things off? They'll probably want lamb chops for dinner." Granted the City Council may have been comprised of a herbivore majority but they were a bloodthirsty bunch.

Her eyes widening, the wooly woman looked up worriedly at her boss. "...Can I take a vacation? I hear the Dakotas are a nice place to visit this time of year." Plus they weren't heavily populated; she could hide out in the countryside and no one would ever find her.

The much taller carnivore snorted in annoyance. "No. Because frankly they have me working around the clock to try and keep things on the down-low and I'll need the help... but you know what?" The King of the Jungle sighed in exasperation as he straightened his posture. "As much as I hate to admit it... she's doing fantastic work... like some kind of fantastic fox."

The sheep blinked her eyes at that. "She... has?" She chirruped, sounding very confused. "But Mayor Lionheart, she's a fox! You know how foxes are!" It was absolutely **bewildering** to hear the man talk almost prideful about such a dreadful predator!

Nodding his head, Leodore replied, "I know, Smellweather, I know! And yet... she doesn't act like one of her kind is supposed to!" He cried out, sounding scandalized by the prospect. "In the two days she's been assigned here, she took down two major criminals and busted thirty others!"

"Two major criminals!?" Dawn cried out, sounding shocked by the prospect. As the lion took his cell phone back from her, the poor lamb could only wonder how Officer Fox was able to do such? Sure, the Inspector was a predator but she was a tiny one–likely not much bigger than Bellweather herself! Most of the major criminals were **big**! Both in reputation and actual size! "Which ones?" She inquired, curious as to who could have been taken into custody.

Letting off a depressed sigh, the Mayor walked back around to his desk. Flopping down into his leather chair, the leonine politician let his arms hang over the sides. "Known public nuisances Mr. Pig and Mr. Steady."

Tilting her head towards the direction of her boss, the petite sheep considered that for a moment. Those names sounded awfully familiar. "...Would those happen to be the two that the Council has been demanding be given... oh, what was the term?"

Bringing his right paw to his face, the man rubbed his eyes to avert an oncoming headache. "Catch and Release... and yes..." the agitated lion groaned. "The ones the Council have been purposely allowing to build up a reputation to use their capture to bolster popularity around election time and... she captured them **both** within the span of twenty-four hours within one another. Head Councilman Hornaday in particular is furious about that..." the feline male trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "Although when I saw him this afternoon, I think Councilman Velveteen's rage matched the intensity of the old man's!"

Mulling over that for a moment, all the poor sheep could consider was how good that wasn't for any of them. "...Next thing you'll tell me is that Councilman Punjob wasn't cracking any puns."

"He wasn't," the Mayor flatly stated.

"...Are there any nuclear fallout shelters to hide in?" The petite prey mammal squeaked out, feeling as though something bad was going to happen. That was one thing that could be counted on; the camel to always crack bad jokes at the most inappropriate times. For him to actually be silent was telling. "What happened?"

Closing his eyes, the lion inhaled deeply, causing his massive chest to inflate and stress the buttons of his jacket. Exhaling slowly, he then went on to explain, "The Inspector got into an altercation with both of Councilman Velveteen's sons this morning. Considering it happened at the Snow Palace Resort where there were numerous witnesses to it, and evidence attained at by the police..." he cringed. "I had to call Precinct Fourteen personally to find out what was going on; I didn't want to step on the Councilman's toes any more than my Mammal Inclusion Initiative already has! But I discovered Chief Bogo was dragged down to Tundratown check on things personally and..." he sighed again. "It's sticking."

The tiny sheep blinked her eyes in confusion at that last part. "...Sticking?"

"The charges," Leodore blurted out. "Chief Bogo got the charges to stick. While one is being given a slap on the wrist over what happened, the other son went at her with a deadly weapon. The council and police can't get around it and Edward's youngest son is being formally charged!" The lion explained. The whole situation seemed so _blasphemous_ to him! "And worse, because it involved an off-duty and out-of-uniform Officer Fox they can't do anything to her... meaning..." he trailed off, the implications clear.

The Assistant Mayor paled as she put two and two together and somehow got an ancient Aztec symbol for the Sun in her head. As she truly looked at him, Dawn finally realized how he appeared rather tired and disheveled, completely unlike his usual confident self. Really, there was only one thing to be said about it all. "Are we going to die?"

The feline male sighed heavily, the noise that came out his throat sounding like a predatory growl. "Frankly, Smellweather? I don't know and I can't think. I've had to deal with them alone. If anything I'm the one who needs a vacation." As she continued to stare at him, the man could only offer a helpless shrug. "What I can tell you is the Council said they're going to handle things themselves at this rate? I really don't know what they have in mind but I wouldn't be surprised if they plan drag me over the coals when all is said and done: I'm the one who brought her over!"

And just like that, the wheels in the sheep's mind began turning. That last bit her boss said struck a chord with her, making it feel there was something that they had missed about the situation. In mere moments, Assistant Mayor Bellweather's eyes lit up in understanding. "That's right! You did!"

Needless to say, Mayor Lionheart was confused by the lamb's sudden exuberance. "Come again?"

"Think about it!" The bovine cried out excitedly. "You said it yourself earlier! She's already taken down two major criminals, several others, and even got one of the City Council members' children to have to face serious charges, right?"

The lion blinked his eyes once, twice. "Well, yes," he admitted. "But I don't—"

"YOU!" Bellweather bleated out, interrupting the carnivore. "Are the mayor who brought in someone who can handle the big boys!" She got even more excited as she mentally ran through what this could mean. "Think about it! If you work with the Police Chief and Officer Fox, you could be seen as the mayor that cleaned up all of Zootopia!"

Understandably, the way his Assistant Mayor coached him caught the lion's attention. "Yeah..." he said slowly as he straightened up in his chair. "Yeah." He repeated before pushing himself out of his seat. "YEAH! This could be my big break! I've gotten so used to having to pussyfoot around the Council that I didn't even think about what this could do for me _personally_!" He said gleefully, sounding like a cub in a candy store. "If she keeps this up, it will give me the boost I need for re-election and then some! I might even..." he licked his lips in anticipation. Oh dare he hope? "I might even get enough votes to become the Head of the City Council this time!"

"Now, now! Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Mayor," the lovely lady lamb told him in a gentle chiding tone. "But this would be good political cover for you." She brought her right hand up tapped her chin with a hooved finger as she began pacing back and forth in the mayoral office. "If you can spin this all as having been part of a plan– **your plan** –to give the ZPD a major boost to capturing criminals, particularly the ones who, shall we say... have good lawyers?" Even if she hated using soft wording like this, they had to play their cards right. "You can achieve three things. One" you can make yourself look like a genius who's tough on crime and thinks about the average citizen. Two: you can cast the Police Department in a light that makes them be the victim of politics, thus getting the citizens of Zootopia to feel empathy for them and finally..." she turned to face her boss, giving him a devious grin. "You can make the City Council look more than a bit foolish." Granted that wasn't hard with the way things were going, but still... "You can make it seem like you and the ZPD are the Salt of the Earth mammals you know, while the members of the council are the out-of-touch bureaucrats who make it hard for regular folk to do their jobs!"

Nodding his head, the lion was starting to grin wildly. "...Bellweather," he began, surprising both her and himself as he actually got her name right. "If all turns out well, I am going to see if we can't get you running for an officer other than Assistant Mayor. I'm certain someone like you could easily replace one of the other council members..." he chuckled as he entwined his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. "We'll need to keep the momentum going once we have it so tell me: who do we have to take over as the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative once Inspector Fox's time on loan to us comes to an end?" He grinned wider. "I hope we have a cute little lady! They tend to be so photogenic and garner the most positive attention!"

The sheep blinked her eyes. Oh, right. He had asked about that before; nearly tore her apart over it. "About that... I did find someone who was interested... and she could be quite photogenic..." Bellweather trailed off, gulping softly and hoping that his good mood didn't vanish in an instant. "But there's a **TINY** problem."

"...What sort of problem?" If it was simply trading one vixen for another, he was going to get a hard drink.

Inhaling deeply, the lamb blurted out in one breath, "She'satinybunnyrabbit!"

"...A tiny bunny rabbit?" Leodore queried. At the woman's nod, he merely shrugged his shoulders. "Ugh... fine. Whatever! So we have some tiny bunnies. That's still a species meant to be assisted by the Mammal Inclusion Initiative! Nothing wrong with that! But out of curiosity, who else did you get while you were down in Bunnyburrow?" He hoped it wasn't only rabbit. A sheep or pig would be great!

Her shoulders sagging, Dawn had to wince. This was the moment she had been dreading. "Actually Mayor Lionheart, that's the problem. Miss Hopps was the **only** one to, 'bite' as it were. No matter what I said, all the locals would do was look at me curiously once I gave my sales-pitch before heading off on their merry way. That tiny bunny was the only one to actually burst out with excitement and whole-heartedly sign on!"

Realizing it was a bunny or bust, the Mayor merely raised his right paw and rubbed his head. "You know, if you had told this before the Inspector arrived, I would d be more upset." Lowering his hand, he looked at the sheep with a tired gaze before adding, "But to be honest? I'll take anything as long as they're a female herbivore. A soft and simple bunny will be perfect. In the meantime we'll have the ZPD get the most use out of Officer Fox so we can—"

 _*Ring*!_

"...What?" He blurted with a confused tone to his voice. When his office phone rang a second time, the lion reached over with his right hand and grasping the handset settled atop his desk. Slowly, the leonine male brought it up to the side of his head. "Hello, Mayor Lionheart speaking—WHAT DO YOU MEAN OFFICER FOX IS DEAD!?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : What? Carmelita dead!? What the hoo-ha-hey is going on!?

Well, it's December 31st over here, the last day of 2016 and I managed to get out one more chapter released... although I know for a fact a lot of my readers will be seeing this for January 1st 2017.

I do apologize for the delay... the very considerable delay. I was working on it the entire time but I only had about an hour daily and I would get a little more than a page at a time. There was just SO MUCH going on in my life with the holidays and even a few snows I had to deal with. Being the only able-bodied male in my family I ended up doing everything from having to shovel, snow-blow, and plow all the houses and job sites as well as doing more than my own Christmas shopping. I pretty much knew what everyone was getting this year.

More or less, my own free time was nil and the majority of this chapter had been written over the course of three days. Ugh.

Here's hoping the weather AND my family ease up so I can focus on writing at a more sedate pace again.

But enough of that: here's wising everyone a Happy New Year!

Try Everything!


	17. Battle Plans

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya  
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 17: Battle Plans

 _Stay cool, Carmelita_... _no need to be worried_. _You have Cooper dead to rights_... _it's all over_ , the orange-pelted vixen thought as she sat on one of the interior benches of a helicopter, her arms crossed over her chest as she reclined back against the wall of the aircraft with her left leg over her right; a hooked cane to her side. Her brown eyes were focused on the man across from her, the raccoon a little worse for wear after his fight with Clock-La but he was in no longer in immediate danger from his wounds. The man's blue clothes were still filthy but the emergency medical personnel called to the scene patched him up nicely. The cuts on his face had stopped bleeding and they even managed to save his left ear! Sly was once again recognizable as the pain in the ass thief she knew.

And that was what made this whole situation feel... unreal. He had given himself up for the sake of his friends and was going to face justice for all his crimes! All the years she spent hunting him down across the world and back again were _over_. He was unarmed; the masked mammal's upper extremities restrained behind his back with handcuffs as he sat on the bench opposite to her... the female red fox only needed to escort him inside of the Paris Headquarters of Interpol and the journey would be at an end. With Cooper's surrender, her career was restored as his came to a halt. Considering the lengths he went to restore his family's book, the Thievius Raccoonus, she had a sneaking suspicion that he had to be up to **something**.

And yet there he was, just sitting there quietly. There was no smug expression of superiority on his face, nor was he letting off any snarky quips to distract her. The master thief merely sat there, silent as death while he looked back at her, his own brown eyes meeting her gaze.

Carmelita would swear to God, it was almost as if he was trying to read her thoughts while she tried to figure what his angle was.

And then the raccoon smiled wide at her, his teeth letting off a glint from how the light reflected off them as he waggled his eyebrows at her in a flirtatious fashion.

Blinking her eyes, the re-instated Interpol Agent raised her right eyebrow as she processed the obvious come-on her fellow mammal was giving her. After a few moments of just staring at the criminal as he grinned like a fool at her, the Hispanic vulpine finally responded, "You've got something in your teeth."

Blinking his eyes at the vulpine beauty's response, Sly brought his left hand to his side dug into his red leg pouch and retrieved small hand mirror and checking his teeth. "Huh..." he murmured in curiosity. "Wonder where that came from..."

Needless to say, the master thief's preening made Carmelita blink her eyes in shock. He was free?

"I don't even remember the last time I ate something with lettuce in it," he murmured curiously as he brought his other hand up and rubbed at his gums with a fingertip.

Her eyes going wide with shock as the man proved that yes, he was indeed free, the international policewoman drew her weapon. "Put those cuffs on right now!" She demanded.

Turning his attention to the woman sitting across from him, the masked mammal blinked his dark brown eyes. "Well, two problems with that," Sly responded, still picking at his teeth as he did. "One: I just got out of those." His gaze darted over to the handcuffs to his side before his stare returned to the item in the woman's hands. "Two: you're threatening me with a personal massager."

The red vixen's eyes crossed to look down at the weapon in her hands. Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice... and then swore terribly enough that her mother would have tanned her hide if she heard her, in spite of their ages. "Mierda-hijo de puta de un hijo pinchazo Ringtail pique!" She growled as she forcefully slammed said... 'stress reliever'... onto the bench beside her. The furiously blushing Latina then withdrew her Shock Pistol from her duffel bag, aiming the weapon at the smiling criminal raccoon. "Put them back on, Cooper."

Smiling, the smug criminal batted his eyes at the woman sitting across from him, purposely fluttering his eyelashes at her. "I heard a, 'Ringtail' in there, Carm... what sweet nothings did you have to say about me?"

The weapon began to whirr to life as the Interpol Agent charged up a shot. "Put. Them. Back. On." She commanded, her upper lip curling back in a snarl.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the latest in the long line of Cooper Master Thieves nodded his head. "Okay, okay... I get the hint, he murmured as he reached his hands behind his back, following by a clacking sound. He then turned his torso to the right, allowing the lovely red fox to see the handcuffs were in place. "Happy now, Carmelita?" He pouted. "Or am I back to calling you, 'Inspector Fox' now?"

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the thief. The Latina spitfire spent some time checking his handcuffs from afar, not trusting him just yet. After all, he had gotten out–though she didn't know _how_ –and she would need to check him... **vigorously**...

As the implications of what she was considering hit her, the vixen shook her head–and wondering why she had her... little friend... with her–and immediately blamed it for her mind wondering. "It doesn't matter what you call me," the vulpine policewoman stated firmly. Gazing into his eyes, she promised the crook, "You're still going to prison."

Shrugging his shoulders, the masked mammal still maintained a smile even as he bemoaned, "And we were getting along _so well_ lately!"

The woman snorted, ignoring the mischievous perp's theatrics. "Cut it out, Cooper. Just tell me how you got free of those handcuffs," she demanded of him.

Sly just smirked. "Seriously? I just got them back on, as you requested I might add. And now you want me to take them off again? I'm getting some mixed messages here!" The masked mammal paused for a moment, tilting his head as he considered something. "Then again, you tend to give out **a lot** of mixed signals, so this is par the course, really."

Sighing, the reinstated Interpol Agent got up from her seat and made her way over to him, one hand still holding onto her Shock Pistol. Sitting down next to him, she told the raccoon to, "Show me."

Smiling, the master thief couldn't help but mischievously quip, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He wagged his eyebrows for emphasis.

The woman's face went flush with a crimson hue at the implications; bright enough to actually show through her facial fur. "COOPER!" The woman snapped. "Be serious here!"

The masked mammal let out a bout of laughter... not one of mockery, no... this was laughter of honest to goodness mirth. "I am! This..." he turned a bit so that his back was to the wall of the helicopter once more but so he could also look at her once more. Giving the Hispanic vulpine a rather wan smile, he told her, "Carmelita... you did it. You freed me from Clockwerk. Even in handcuffs, flying to Interpol, and eventually to prison... I am freer now than I have ever been all my life. And I have you to thank for it."

Mulling over those words, the Inspector could only blink her eyes at the ring-tailed perp, wondering if this was a trick, if he had gone crazy, or if it was–as odd as it might seem and contrary to everything she knew about him–an honest reaction.

Suddenly, the vixen had other issues at hand... literally, as he was somehow once again free, holding both her hands together with his own, and staring into her eyes. _Where did my weapon go?_ She thought to herself.

"As since I have never been freer," he whispered, the raccoon closing in closer to her face. "Maybe it's time I... enjoy this freedom..."

Carmelita felt her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the man start to slide that much closer to her, almost touching noses with her. Her eyes darted about the helicopter cabin, to Sly... and immediately caught sight of her pistol on his lap. So despite how loud the traitorous voice in her head was telling her to, 'kiss him' the vixen instead quickly reached out and grasped her firearm before throwing herself from the bench and into a roll on the floor of the cabin. She rose her weapon up and held it aloft, aimed at the criminal from her crouched position. "Fuh-fine!" She snapped out, internally wincing from how she stuttered. "Don't tell me how you got them off. Just put them back on, **criminal**!"

Now the raccoon looked a little upset... before breathing in deeply, causing his chest to expand a little. He began to exhale slowly before reply, "All right, all right... I'll put them back on. But can we still talk? Please?"

Nodding her head firmly enough to cause her mane of navy blue tresses to bob, the international policewoman replied, "Sure. But no more funny business, Cooper! I'm on to you..." she warned as she slowly stood up and walked backwards to the bench opposite the criminal.

Smiling at that response, Sly couldn't help but snark, "Funny... I thought I was the one coming on to you?"

The canid cop growled a bit at those words.

Licking his lips for a moment, the raccoon mulled over his thoughts for a moment before continuing. "Or maybe it is the other way around?" Sly postulated. "After all, you're the one who can't seem to decide if you want me in handcuffs or not, all while threatening me with something that makes me feel a little inadequate."

Her increased growl and narrowed eyes would have had more of an effect, had she not at that moment, fallen onto her bench on the other side of the helicopter. The orange-pelted vixen had been so focused on Sly, that she had forgotten where she was in relation to everything. "...I have no idea how that got there!"

The raccoon just stared down at the toy poking out from between the vixen's legs "...Ye~eeeaaaaaaah..." Sly drawled out slowly. "And just how many times did it work when _I_ said **that**?"

Her face going flush with humiliation, the vixen grumbled irritably as she tilted to her left and reached her right hand down. Pulling free her, 'personal massager' Carmelita stuffed it back into her bag and out of sight. Staring at him, she held her Shock Pistol aloft once more with her other paw. "You really are a **pain in the ass** , you know that Cooper?"

"Hey, you're a pain in my heart and I **don't** mean a heart attack!" The raccoon suddenly replied in a theatric fashion. "Every time I see you I want to... I don't know... do something that would make you want to shoot me." He leaned back against the interior wall of the helicopter before adding, "Which seems to be about anything and everything I do at this point."

The pair went quiet for a moment, both mulling over their frustrations. Finally, after a solid ten minutes, the sound of the helicopter blades whirring above them was broken by the master thief saying, "You were beautiful in that black dress."

Blinking her eyes once, twice, the Hispanic woman gazed upon the perp with a curious fashion. "...Black dress?" She queried.

"The one you wore to Rajan's palace... the party in India," Sly explained. "My God in heaven, black velvet in that slow Southern style. I swear Carm, you could have been the focus of a new religion to bring me to my knees."

Her anger faded in that instant. Not into little girl feelings of love and all that. Oh no. They instead faded into mild annoyance at such a cheesy line. "What? No little boy's smile?" She asked with a teasing grin.

Sly looked affronted. "My dear Inspector, we're not even engaged and yet you're already propositioning me for children!" His ever-usual smile quickly fell into place. "I approve of us moving so fast, Carmelita! If that is why you brought that bottle, I have to warn you: I'm an easy drunk." He tilted his head towards her, winking. "But you could just ask if I'll give it up first, it is only proper for the guy you just demanded babies from."

Twitching, the Hispanic Interpol operative simply glared at the man sitting across from her. "Are you even old enough to drink?"

The raccoon gave her a firm nod of his head, causing his blue cap to tilt forward slightly. "Yep! Turning twenty-two in a few days," he chirruped sweetly. "I've spent my first year as an adult with full freedom running around, beating up master criminals, gathering Clockwerk parts, and being chased by my favorite fox." He waggled his eyebrows at her meaningfully. "What can I say? I like an older woman. Please say you'll be gentle when you make a _**real**_ man out of me."

Bringing her right hand up, the vulpine palmed her face. " _Urge to kill_... _**rising**_..." she quietly murmured under her breath before she lowered her paw to stare at him. "And how did you know I had a bottle with me?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the master thief explained, "Part of the job is being able to... I guess you could say, 'read' containers. With how deflated your pack is and the shape the contents are making, I could tell you had a bottle of _something_ in there." He grinned before happily asking, "So what is it? Do we have a nice red? White? Or... dare I hope... rosé?"

Sighing, the woman calmly replied, "Champagne. And no, it's not for you."

That response made the raccoon pout in a rather childish manner. "Oh, come on! Share! Like I said, I'm legal tender! Don't I even get a sip as a thank you for sneaking you out of Prague when Interpol was after both of us?"

Looking at the man with a half-lidded gaze, the woman bluntly replied, "Speaking of which, you were groping my butt as you swung us away along power lines with your cane." Come to think of it, she didn't know how the thief managed it but she was thankful neither of them ended up getting electrocuted by him doing that.

"I had to hold you tightly as we were kind of high up," Sly offered. "Would you have rather I had held you very loosely? Perhaps grasped onto the cane with both hands as you wrapped your arms firmly around my neck, your legs locked around me?" He perked up at the mental image he was forming. "Oh! That's what we should have done!" The masked mammal offered before turning his gaze towards the vixen. "Shall we properly... _reenact_ that night?"

Looking at her weapon and upping the charge slightly–as well as wondering if she could safely discharge it inside the helicopter–she looked at his anxious expression and decided to change the subject before she ended up shooting him. So choosing to answer his earlier inquiry, the lovely Latina replied. "The champagne was for when I finally arrested you."

That response made Cooper blink his eyes once, twice, **twice**. "I call bullshit."

The vixen raised one of her navy blue eyebrows in response. "...Excuse me?" she asked.

Huffing, the raccoon frowned at his captivating captor. "Do you really expect _me_ to believe that the entire time you have been chasing me, you had a bottle of champagne hidden on your person at all times, for some mythical day when you finally got me? And that said bottle–after all we're been through together and you separately–suffered absolutely **no** damage with its fluids still properly carbonated?"

"Yes. I have," she answered in all seriousness. "I had gotten as a present from my folks the day I was promoted to Inspector... the same day I had met you and was put on your case. Of course this bottle has special meaning to me. I would care for it, keeping it ready until you were behind bars... then I would go home and drink myself into a coma and get the best sleep of my life in... just what would it be at this point? Three, four years now?"

"Four," the raccoon answered as he looked the woman over curiously, taking in her appearance. Mulling over things for a while, he finally nodded his head in acceptance. "I guess it's slightly believable when I consider the fact you own a jet pack," he sighed. "Seriously! All the problems with the EU, the budgeting, the unemployment, and the call to open up borders... and Interpol are spending their money on private jet packs? That kind of technology should be trademarked and sold to the public for big bucks instead of being wasted for personal use!"

The vulpine woman stared right back at the master thief. "God, you are _such_ an **asshole** sometimes, you know that Cooper?" She asked, feeling more than a little annoyed. "If it wasn't for the fact you _nearly died_ in your attempt to take down Clock-La, I would **so** smack you upside the head with my Shock Pistol!"

Sly blinked his eyes once, twice. "...That is one pistol-whip I wouldn't want to experience."

Crossing her arms across her chest, the Hispanic policewoman huffed in irritation. "Do be quiet," she grumbled.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, before the masked mischief-maker spoke up again. "So what will you do with yourself now, Inspector?"

"I book you, go home, get blindingly drunk, and sleep like the dead," she stated in a monotone fashion. "Did I not just explain that to you?"

"Not that," Sly waved off with the one hand no longer handcuffed to the aircraft... maybe. She wasn't sure which hand it had been now with how many times he had disrespectfully and annoyingly freed himself. "I mean, what awaits the great Inspector Fox after this case is done and over with?"

She could only blink at that.

"Face it," the ring-tailed mammal spoke sourly. "Your entire career has all been about me since before I became legal–speaking of which, you might get a call from Chris Hamsen about that." Ignoring her growl, he continued. "But after this last case, after I am gone... what will be waiting for you?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Just common criminals, maybe some brats and fools that will try and copy me; more than a few probably ending up dead trying to make some internet video and parents blaming me for their stupidity..." he murmured that last part.

Her muzzle's lips pulled back into a frown. "And what are you getting at?"

"Face it, Carmelita," the master thief said, leaning forward. "I am your peak. That bottle isn't just to celebrate capturing me. It is a celebration of the end of your excitement. After me, it's all downhill from here."

Twitching in growing irritation, the vixen growled angrily at what he was suggesting. Staring up at the masked mammal, she told him firmly, "You are not my White Whale."

Nodding his head, the latest in the long line of career criminals replied, "I would hope not! I need to keep a svelte physique! I couldn't pull off even a tenth of the techniques in the Thievius Raccoonus if I was as big as Murray." He went quiet for a moment before he added, "Or are you trying to tell me you don't want my Moby Dick?" He reclined back a bit, spreading his legs. "You know I'm _not_ wearing pants, Inspector Fox..." he cooed out suggestively.

Her face going completely flush at his flirtations, the Interpol Inspector threatened, "If I see even one peek of your Mini-Cooper, I'm going to have the pilot place a call for an ambulance to be ready for you when we land because you'll need it after I'm through with you!"

The ring-tailed thief chuckled lightly at the woman's threat. "Really, Carm! Have we meant so little to each other? You'd rough me up even after all we've been through together?"

"I am still an officer of law enforcement," she stated proudly.

The raccoon nodded his head at that. "So you'll be turning yourself in too?" He asked.

That caught Carmelita off-guard, causing the vixen to blink her eyes in an almost owlish fashion. "...Excuse me?" She chirruped in surprise.

"Well my dear Inspector Fox, much of what we did together was barely legal in only the loosest of senses," Sly pointed out in all seriousness. "Why, I can think of a few things that could result in you spending some time in prison as well. Sure, a few of the countries we were in don't have nice prisons at all but maybe we could share a cell?" he asked. "And on that note, would you like to be the Bottom Bitch or should I? I mean, you _do_ strike me as a top."

Although the Latina vulpine was annoyed at the, 'bitch' reference, the woman merely closed her eyes for a moment. She breathed in deeply before letting out a small sigh. "Don't try and psyche me out, Cooper." She opened her eyes and stared at him... a little annoyed he'd taken his handcuffs off completely in the small span of time she had taken her gaze off of him. "I've already talked with Commissioner Barkley. It's going to take some doing but with you brought into custody and... well... everything that idiot Neyla did as Clock-La? The facts are out: I've been exonerated and you made the deal to _quietly_ come with me to Interpol in return for letting Bentley and Murray go..."

That little rundown made Sly frown a bit. "It was worth it," he replied in all seriousness. "I just hope Murray can get our turtle pal to a good hospital. That... that was a bad crack to his shell."

Nodding her head, the female red fox felt a little bad for making the perp think about the fate of his friends. As much as he could be an asshole there was no reason for her to be a dick, even unintentionally. "So... tell me, Sly... what do you do in your off time? Do you like books?" She offered, trying to keep his mind off of them.

That **immediately** drew the raccoon's attention. "Wait. You're _actually_ trying to make small talk with me?" The awe in his voice was very prevalent. As much as he tried, he had never seen the woman be the first to reach out.

"Yes. And if you tell anyone, I'll blame it on a concussion," she explained as she waved off his surprise. "AND PUT THOSE CUFFS BACK ON AND KEEP THEM ON!"

"Yes, Mistress!" he chirped, unable to resist tweaking her a bit even as he complied.

The vixen twitched a bit. "Quit that!" She yelled back as he twirled his handcuffs on one finger

Cooper chuckled at the lovely Latina's exasperation. "Oh come now," he stated as he continued swinging the cuffs around. "Give me credit! I didn't give you the obvious crass response; you know, asking what sort of dirty books might be on your list and if Fifty Shades were in any of their titles." Sitting back down, he leaned back, hands behind his head even if he didn't put the cuffs back on. "And to answer you honestly: I prefer the classics."

"You mean rare first editions," she corrected, remembering some of the thefts.

"I prefer to think of it as seeing the stories and such how the author originally intended them to be," Sly replied, waving off her insinuation. "You might not believe this, but I honestly believe they lose a little something as they become mass produced."

Carmelita raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh really now?" She tilted her head as she gazed upon the man sitting across form her. "Like what?" She queried, wondering what he was getting at.

Leaning his head back so the top of his head pressed against the interior wall of the helicopter, the raccoon replied, "Well, there's the original edition of Charles Chicken's a Christmas Carol. He goes into way, _**WAY**_ more detail about the Spirit of Christmas Present than ever gets mentioned. Such as being armed with a sword rusted in his scabbard, and carrying around two demonic kits: Ignorance and Want. Honestly, that fat bastard was someone Chris Hamsen would be called on to check out."

The orange-pelted vixen blinked her eyes at that last comment. "...Why do you keep mentioning the host of those, 'To Catch a Predator' news specials?" The woman asked curiously.

Gracing her with a small mischievous grin, Cooper couldn't help but mention, "Because I was always worried when I met you at the impressionable age of seventeen that our undeniable attraction would cause the Po-Po to get 'internal affairs' involved with my favorite Inspector. Joking about it helped ease my worries... and made turning eighteen more of a relief than an exciting milestone."

Sighing, the policewoman palmed her face with her free hand. "Must you make those jokes?"

The raccoon blinked his eyes at her reaction. "What?" The masked mammal queried. "Do you think my defense lawyer or the tabloids won't?"

Carmelita's narrowed eyes peeked through her fingers.

"I didn't say that _**I**_ would make those accusations," Sly explained. "I just know the public. Hell, what do you think they'll say about what we just went through during the past year?"

Shoulders slumping, the Latina vulpine nodded her head in agreement: he was right. Tabloids would have a field day with the story– **especially** if they ever found a photo of the two of them dancing.

As she thought back to that dance, the vixen couldn't help but blush a bit more once again. Not as badly as when Sly had been purposely ribbing her, oh no. This was due to a potentially naughty thought that coursed through the back of her mind. "I have to admit... at the time, I didn't recognize you at all. We're not exactly able to really just be together in one place for long and I was so used to the head-shorter, string-bean of an eighteen-year-old thief I had started chasing in earnest once you broke into my office at Interpol. You... you grew up well, physically at least. I'll give you that much."

His good ear twitching with delight at the woman's admission, Sly couldn't help but give her a small smile in return. "Cardio and gymnastics have given me a build France would kill for in their Animalympic athletes." Especially when one considered how famed runner René Fromage threw away a shot at the gold back during the 1980 games. The raccoon leaned forward on the bench once more and straightened up, trying to puff out his chest a bit to appear more impressive than he actually was. "I am a premiere specimen of kinetic poetry in motion."

Rolling her eyes, Inspector Fox couldn't help but scoff, "With an ego the size of the Eifel Tower to boot."

Giving her a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, the ring-tailed thief gazed into the eyes of the woman sitting across from him. "I'd say it's more like the size of the Paris itself... but hey!" He chirruped, switching gears on a dime. "I am rather humble like that," the raccoon retorted, once more giving the Interpol Agent a cheeky grin.

Letting off a grunt of exasperation, Carmelita couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Usually, men don't exaggerate the size of their own ego like that."

Crossing his arms over his chest, the master thief offered the target of his affection a wide, toothy grin. "My, my," Sly chirred. "Making quips about my equipment again? Should I be worried about my purity before we get to HQ?" He asked, trying to make his eyes look sweet and innocent–something he had **a lot** of practice with.

The vulpine inspector snorted. " _Please_. There's nothing you have that I want." The policewoman sounded more assured than she actually felt. She had been softening up towards the raccoon over time–especially the past year–as they ended up being on the lamb because of the machinations of the late Captain Neyla. Fortunately for her, the masked mammal's current attitude was making it rather easy for the woman to keep her guard up.

Pressing his hands to his chest, the perpetual perp cooed out in a theatrical fashion, "Ouch! Oh Death, where is thy stinger!?"

Her ears flattening back against her skull in annoyance as the criminal refused to be serious, the Latina vulpine glared daggers at the ring-tailed rascal. "And furthermore, just why won't you keep your handcuffs on? Is it really that difficult to maintain a professional appearance?"

Cooper blinked his eyes a couple of times at the vulpine beauty's comment. "Professional appearance?" He asked. "My dear Inspector, may I remind you of my own professional duty? My needs? My _musts_? My _**reputation**_? What would it say about me, the greatest thief of our generation–and a few others, despite what my dear departed relatives and ancestors would think–if I was truly held in such minor contraptions?" He began to twirl the handcuffs on his right index finger for emphasis. "And, frankly," he began once more, leaning forward to gaze at the woman sitting across from him. "Just what would it say about how long you and the law enforcement agencies of the world, if they were able to hold me? That you took so long to catch someone made to appear so **utterly inept**?"

With her brown eyes narrowing in anger, the female red fox's lip curled back on her muzzle, showing off a number of sharp teeth as she growled at him. "It would mean you've been a lucky son of a bitch who—"

"Hey now!" The raccoon snapped, interrupting the Latina law-enforcer. "Call me whatever you may like but I'll have you know that my mother was not a bitch!" He shrugged. "Sure, dad might have come home a few times when I was a younger, impressionable kit with a lovely canid woman or two... _particularly the kind one pays money to have good times with_..." he admitted that last part softly. "But Mama Cooper was a raccoon!" He smiled as he sat up on his seat, arms held out at the sight as he flexed his arms, trying to appear more muscular. "I am a one-hundred-percent, as you love to put it, ring-tailed thief!"

Twitching irritably for a moment in growing aggravation, Inspector Fox finally replied, "Fine. **Fine**. You can sit there with your cuffs off for a little bit but remember! I always have the option of blasting your fluffy tail to kingdom come and Interpol will gladly put you into a prison hospital first if it makes you amenable." She reminded him threateningly.

"...I always feel like the song, 'A Night on Bald Mountain' should be playing in the background whenever you get like this," the master thief said in all seriousness.

The lovely red vixen shrugged, taking her turn to smile just oh-so-innocently.

"Besides, Inspector Fox," he began speaking again, a mischievous smile returning to his face once more. "You may talk a big game but we both know the truth."

That comment made Carmelita blink her eyes. "About what?" She asked. "My apparent and boundless love for you?" She scoffed sarcastically.

Indeed, Sly blinked his own eyes in surprise. "No~ooooo..." he drawled out slowly as he needed a moment for his mind to get back on track. "But we'll come back to that Freudian slip a bit later," the criminal promised. "I was referring to the adventures we had together while you were on the run. I saw that spark in your eyes when you got to be the bad girl, the thrill of being on the other side of the law. You _**liked**_ it."

She frowned. "My options were extremely limited and I was merely making the best out of a terrible situation. They had me imprisoned at Contessa's castle for over a month and Neyla would have wanted nothing more than to toss my ass into another maximum security prison just to hide the truth." She gritted her teeth again, feeling her anger rise once more... albeit not necessarily focused on Sly this time. "This has been the most trying year of my life, Cooper. You always talk about being a master thief and following the code of your family? You're not the only one!" She motioned to herself. "Fourth generation police officer and there are a lot more ancestors in my family tree that were part of law enforcement in one way or another. That's who **I** am... and the fact that tigress _**cunt**_ tarnished my image and had my family worried sick makes me wish I could still punch the feline whore in her dumb smug face!"

"..." the ring-tailed thief blinked his eyes once, twice, _thrice_. "...You didn't inhale any Spice while we were on this journey, did you?" He saw what happened when Murray was hopped up on the stuff first hand; he'd barely got out of that confrontation unscathed. He didn't think he could survive a raging hot-blooded Latina spitfire like the vixen before him.

Crossing her arms over her chest at the comment, the vulpine woman snorted. She then assured him, "No, Cooper. No I did not."

"Just making sure," he said before leaning back against the interior wall of the helicopter. Laughing a bit, he looked at the woman sitting across from him once more. "Look at the two of us, still caught up in our family occupations even now."

The vixen's left ear twitched slightly in irritation. "You say that like it is a bad thing," she replied in a guarded tone.

"It isn't," the ring-tailed criminal replied. "But you can get wrapped up in it, forget about the little things in life."

Raising her right eyebrow, the Interpol officer asked, "Like what?"

"We~eeeell..." Sly began slowly, being careful with his words. "I know my team will at least know what happened and write it down in the Thievius Raccoonus for me. Did you think to let your family know what happened before you came back to borrow one of Interpol's helicopters so you could bring down Clock-La?"

She nodded her head firmly enough to cause her mane of navy blue tresses to bounce. "Who do you think managed to commandeer a police helicopter for me? Even if they couldn't prove it at the time, they knew I was innocent and were willing to help me clear my name. Speaking of which?" She took a deep breath. "Thanks for being my tail gunner. Helicopters are way too complicated to fly and also use the weaponry at the same time."

Smiling once more, the masked mammal wagged his eyebrow at the woman sitting across from him in a flirtatious fashion. "I am an experienced tail gunner, aren't I?"

Sighing, the vulpine rolled her brown eyes. "And those lousy come-ons are why I actually believe you when you say you have, 'purity'... I doubt you've gotten anywhere beyond kissing someone."

Lowering his head, Sly went surprisingly quiet for a moment. "Actually... that moment we shared on the Krack-Karov volcano was my first kiss."

Needless to say, **that** caught the vulpine policewoman off guard. Straightening up, the Hispanic woman turned her attention towards her captive with wide eyes. "Seriously? You've _never_ kissed anyone before then!?"

"What can I say?" He shrugged his shoulders in a noncommittal manner. "Orphan. Unloved. Unwanted. Escaped with my pals when we turned seventeen..." he shook his head. "Oh yes, Carm... I'm not gonna lie... you were my first and I wanted you to be for a long, _long_ time..."

The orange-pelted vixen took several moments to process that, blinking her eyes as she assimilated the newest little factoid of Sly Cooper. One that she would at least do him the courtesy of–and protect her own reputation a bit as well–by **not** putting it in her report.

However, when those moments of internal summation ended, Inspector Fox found that the master thief was once again no longer sitting across from her, but was deep within her personal space, eyes boring into her own. "But I'm not the only one who was waiting, Carmelita... was I?" He said softly to her.

Frowning, the woman scooted over on her bench again, placing some space in between him and her. "...Waiting?" She asked as she brought her Shock Pistol up in a defensive manner, pointing it at his chest. "What the heck do you think you're talking about, Cooper?"

Smiling gently with no sign of his usual ego peeking out, the raccoon placed one paw on her weapon and calmly pushed it aside. "I think you know what I mean," he replied, his voice now barely above a whisper, as he closed in once again. "I wasn't the only one who noticed that spark when we kissed, the looks, the glances. Seriously, my dear Inspector, do you think I am still in this helicopter to be taken away? No," he shook his head. "I am here to steal one more thing from you." So saying, he leaned in to rub his cheek against the vixen's.

Eyes going wide as she felt the nuzzling, the vulpine officer let out a squeak as she once again slipped the Shock Pistol up between her and the affectionate perp. "Eee-e-e-easy there, Sly..." she said as she pressed the open barrel of her weapon at his chest firmly to get him to back off. "Just... just return to your seat. We'll... we'll talk more. How about that?" She offered, flustered that she was having trouble keeping her cool around the smooth criminal.

Smiling wide and not even minding that the woman was insisting they break physical contact, the raccoon took her attitude to at least keep things amiable rather than just pulling the trigger to be a rousing success. "I look forward to it..." he replied sweetly as he bowed his head to the canid cutie before getting up from her bench and making his way back to the one opposite her. Settling himself down in his seat, he leaned forward and chirruped, "Now then... **music**!"

The vulpine officer blinked her bright brown orbs once, then twice, and finally a third time in utter surprise. "...Music?" She queried, confused by what he was getting at.

Chuckling with a bit of mirth, the masked mammal replied, "Is there any music you like... outside of Night on Bald Mountain when you're angry, I mean."

Taking a deep breath, the orange-pelted fox thought about that. She wasn't sure why she should be taking him so seriously... but if it kept him calm for the rest of the ride, it couldn't hurt. "Don't laugh, Cooper," she warned him. "But if you must know... I like Neil Diamond."

"AH!" The ring-tailed rapscallion chimed out in understanding. "Let me guess! He won you over with either, 'Carmelita's Eyes' or 'Forever in Blue Jeans'... am I right?"

The woman actually blushed a little, surprised to find the man knew even that much about the singer. "The former, actually; my father would sing that one to me a lot. He was a big Neil Diamond fan and I loved listening to papa's records as I got older."

Smiling wider, the raccoon nodded his head in understanding. "That's rather nice. Something for the family to share that isn't the usual pursuit of truth and justice. I think I could find myself liking Neil Diamond if you give that old dog your seal of approval."

Carmelita nodded her head, making a mental note to enjoy an evening with her records and a nice glass of Chianti. "So... what about you, Ringtail? Do you like any music?"

Managing a devious grin, Sly happily blurted out, "I just love a good Stradivarius!"

That response immediately caught the female red fox's attention. "Oh?" She chirruped, pleasantly surprised by the man's answer. "I didn't realize you were a fan of classical music, Cooper. That's rather respectable!" She smiled sweetly as she seemed to reminisce, "Ah... a good Stradivarius can really bring out some of the best notes in the classics of Bach and Mozart. I should've known you were into classics when you brought up, 'A Night on Bald Mountain'." She shook her head good-naturedly as she added, "And here I was certain you were going to be stereotypical and say you liked **rap music**."

Sly blinked his eyes. Actually, he had been talking about how much money he got fencing the original instruments and wanted to segue into how he liked gansta rap–it **was** a raccoon thing–but hearing her opinions on the matter? "Er... yeah. I'm a mammal of _refined_ tastes."

Not that there was anything wrong with classical music. When the chance was available, he could enjoy the classics with the best of them. But that Stradivarius... such was something a bit different. Sure, the master thief could pick a lock with no problem but ask him to play a violin–or any instrument, really–and he was total crap.

Carmelita blinked at the man's half-hearted response. Her instincts were telling her that there was more to it than that but she wouldn't pry... for the moment, anyway. After all, how often would she get a calm and decent conversation out of Cooper like this? And if nothing else, who knew? He might confess to something else that Interpol could charge him with!

So offering him a friendly smile, she tried her best to relax a little, hoping the perp would pick up on the vibe and do so as well. "Now then... how about art?" She queried. "Is there anything in particular you like? I rather like Monet's landscapes: countryside, buildings, unique rural architecture. His painting style really helps things pop." The vulpine woman prattled off, explaining her interest in the man's drawings.

Sly merely shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, I may not know art but I **know** what I like..." he trailed off, smiling at the memories of all the successful art heists he and the gang pulled; particularly from private collectors that got their pieces on the black market. "One of my absolute favorite pieces though... the Mona Lita." He raised his head to look up into Carmelita's eyes, meeting her bright brown orbs with his slightly darker set. "Every time I look at that beauty, I swear I'm gazing upon your twin, Carm."

Carmelita rolled her eyes, before focusing on Sly once more. "Seriously? Must you continue with these cheesy pickup lines?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the man leaned forward in a nonchalant manner. "You know what they always say! Honesty is the best policy."

The vixen stared at the captive criminal as if he'd grown a second head. "Honesty? **You**?"

Smirking, the master thief offered the canid cop a nod of his head. "I'll have you know I **never** lied about who or what I am... _unless a lawyer was called for first_ ," he muttered at the end.

Her ears twitching above her navy blue tresses upon catching that quiet utterance, the vixen blinked her eyes before she considered that. She couldn't fault the bitterness to his tone: it was true. Sly was likely going to be dealing with a lot of lawyers come this time tomorrow. So taking a deep breath, she decided to toss him a bone as she held her champagne bottle aloft once more. "I'm beginning to wonder if you don't need this more than I do..." she said as she shook the bottle she had been saving for the occasion of his arrest.

The criminal's smile became rather lopsided at that with growing glee. "Well, I _suppose_ I could enjoy a sip or three," Sly agreed. "I am above the legal age... for here, at least... I think..." he blinked his eyes. "Er... what is the legal drinking age for France again?" he asked.

Rolling her eyes at how he was only now trying to be lawful, she worked on opening the cork before answering. "It is sixteen for beer and wine, eighteen for the hard stuff."

The masked mammal perked up considerably. "Well then, Inspector Fox," he cooed the woman's name. "I guess we won't be breaking any laws tonight if we share that."

"And you're twenty-one... you're the age of majority in all first-world countries," the lovely Latina stated with a smile and she continued to uncork the bottle... only to be surprised as Sly's hands were over her own to help her once more; the perp sitting to her right. Raising an eyebrow, she queried, "You're not going to be a good captive criminal about this, are you?" She asked, resigned to the fact that the master thief could slip in and out of his cuffs at will, damn proper protocol.

Grinning wide, the ring-tailed rascal showed off his pearly whites to the Interpol Inspector. "What can I say, Carm? A lovely lady like you gives a man all the incentive he needs to have some get up and go!"

"Just don't try to get up and go out the helicopter. With how high we are, I think you'd make a mess on the way down," the vulpine stated pointedly as she finally pulled the cork free from the bottle of champagne with an audible pop; the alcoholic beverage fizzing out of the open neck of the green glass. She brought it to her nose and inhaled the scent, the aroma strong yet soothing... enough that she could practically taste the champagne on the tip of her tongue. She then held the bottle out to the man and queried, "Would you like the first taste?"

Smirking, he leaned in, practically touching noses with the vulpine woman.

" **Of the champagne**!" She quickly corrected; her blush so fierce it shone through her facial fur.

The man rolled his eyes at the vixen's reluctance. "Oh, if I _must_ ," Sly said dramatically, as he leaned towards the open bottle, lifting it from her hand to carefully take a swig of it. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the contents enough to release all of the carbonation.

Despite what she may have thought, it wasn't his first bottle–though the ones he usually went for where of a higher cash value, rarity, and on the certain side of not having changed completely to vinegar... or ones replaced by his ancestors after they had downed them. At the old home he and his father shared, Sly had gone into the basement to find his Pop's secret stash... only to find bottles filled with only parchments of paper hundreds of years old declaring, 'I.O.U.' in them.

Tennessee Cooper's name had popped up more than once as he had hit up all the whiskey bottles... something that Sly knew the good Inspector preferred, if the first time he had ransacked her office was any indication. The career criminal had never seen so many empty bottles cluttered in one area in his life and he couldn't help but wonder if he had driven the poor female fox to drink or if that had been some anti-theft measure.

Cheeses Crackers only knew how distracted he'd been just smashing them all in a rather sudden bout of OCD to discover if they had coins in them or not.

Swishing the contents around in his mouth and getting a definitive sensation of the wine's taste, the raccoon eventually swallowed the mouthful of champagne the vulpine policewoman had shared with him. "Not bad," he finally admitted as he offered the long-neck bottle of green glass to the woman sitting next to him. He personally preferred a hard lemonade but, "I can understand why you were saving it for my capture... it's truly bittersweet."

The orange-pelted fox nodded, taking the bottle back from him to have her own taste... but not before wiping off the opening.

"Aww... no indirect kisses, Inspector?" Sly asked teasingly.

"Who knows what else you may have purloined in your years," she teased back, before putting her mouth over the top and tilting her head back...

...Followed by her suffering a coughing fit.

A chuckle reverberated in the ring-tailed rascal's chest. "All that time saving the bottle but you never took the time to learn how to properly drink it?" He queried sweetly.

Coughing and hacking a few times, the woman forcefully replied, "I kah~ **cough**! I can drink!" She nodded her head for emphasis before she brought the bottle back to her lips and took a more conservative sip.

Smiling as he watched her, the gentleman thief raised an eyebrow above the edge of his mask. "So... that's the plan? We land and you take me in while we're both drunk?" He tilted his head back as he considered such. "You know, that would be an interesting way to cap off the Cooper Legacy! Drunk and having gotten to third base with his arresting officer..."

The vixen began coughing again at the masked mammal's suggestion. "Thuh-third!?" She gasped, slapping her chest to try and get her lungs working once more.

Sly calmly nodded. "Even drunk, you'd **never** let me hit a homerun during the first date."

Glaring as she finished forcing the last bits of champagne from her lungs, the vulpine then snarled at him. "So you think you'd get to third, huh?"

The raccoon just grinned at her as he took note of her not denying this was indeed a date. "Have I mentioned I'm not wearing any pants?" He pointedly reminded the policewoman.

Carmelita twitched. "Plenty of times... speaking of which, just what the hell _**is**_ the Cooper Gang's deal with the ongoing crusade against pants!?" She queried firmly as she pointed the bottle of champagne at the raccoon in an accusatory manner. "You, Bentley, Murray... none of you wear pants! What do you think you are? Japanese!?"

Smirking, the raccoon said, "Hey now! Just because male Japanese animals have a tendency to only wear gloves and shoes doesn't mean it's JUST them that do such..." he trailed off as he took the bottle of champagne from the vixen sitting next to him. Left unsaid was that he _did_ have a rather prominent Japanese ancestor in Rioichi Cooper... who had more than a few stories about his own pants-less adventures in his pursuit of the technique, 'Balls of the Tanuki'. "At least you can give me credit for having the common sense to wear shoes!" He raised a leg and showed off his boot-covered foot; rolling it in a semi-circular motion on the axis of the ankle. "Can't get anywhere without a good pair of boots, unlike what some of those American furs seem to think!"

Watching the other mammal begin to drink, Carmelita snorted in annoyance. "I see enough animals around the world who forgo footwear... it's not JUST an American thing," she pointed out, feeling a little less racist for calling out the Japanese when Sly was so quick to stereotype the land of the free. She then tilted her head, allowing the raccoon a moment to drink from the bottle before pointing out, "And you still haven't told me why you don't wear pants."

Pulling the bottle from his lips with an audible pop, the ring-tailed thief turned his head to look at the woman sitting next to him. "Do you really want to know?" Seeing the woman nod her head in affirmation, the masked mammal let off a small sigh. "The truth is Bentley and I do it out of solidarity with Murray." At the confused look on her face, he explained, "We can't find a pair of pants that fit him and forgo them ourselves to make him feel better."

Eyebrow raised, Carmelita looked from Sly, to the bottle, and back again. "This stuff must be stronger than I thought or laced with something. It sounded like you just admitted that the reason you go sans pants ... is because your friend can't find any in their size."

Slowly, the masked mammal nodded his head in confirmation. "That's exactly what I said, my dear Inspector Fox," the raccoon told her. "And I also feel a little bit insulted that you think I would drug you in any way, shape, or form." He straightened up his posture, smirking at her in a mischievous fashion. "I'll have you know, Carmelita, that when I steal the greatest treasure in this world–your heart–you will be in your right mind... or at least under the legal limit." He gave her a cheeky grin with that last bit.

The woman rolled her eyes at that comment but still... it was rather strange reasoning to be certain. "Seriously? You don't wear pants to spare the feelings of the... er..." she trailed off, thinking of how to gently put this. "The most broad-framed member of your gang?"

Again, Sly nodded his head in a positive fashion. "Exactly. Murray hides it well but the fact he can't wear pants hurts him more than anything..." left unsaid was such was partially to blame for the hippo's cross-dressing tendencies as well–dresses could cover his bulk properly. "Speaking of which, what about you?"

Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice. "Huh? What _about_ me?" The vulpine beauty asked as she noticed the raccoon offering the drink back to her. Accepting the champagne bottle, the Hispanic policewoman took another drink.

"You know... pants. How come you wear them?" He smiled as, to Carmelita's credit, she didn't start coughing. She did, however, start thumping her chest with her left fist to make sure her mouthful of champagne went down the right way... and oh, how her vixen breasts bounced _**magnificently**_ when she did that!

Glaring at him, she responded to his ill-timed query with, "I wear pants because I am an officer of the law, as well as a civilized person."

"Murray is civilized... ish," Sly offered.

The vixen let off a snort of disbelief. "And yet you never thought to take him to a professional tailor and get him some clothes designed for his uniquely large frame?" She asked in all seriousness. With all the cash they stole, a pair of pants shouldn't have been out of the question!

The captive criminal merely shrugged. "Gang of thieves, remember?" Sly explained. "Now, granted, we stayed around some places for him to do that, but really, who wants to drop that kind of cash on a set of clothes you may or may not be able to get, and may or may not be useable where you are headed." He tilted his head, staring at the female red fox in a tired fashion. "And FYI? I've seen **plenty** of law enforcement who went without pants... especially some who really, _**really**_ shouldn't have." The oddest that came to mind were a pair of private investigators who were either brothers, cousins, or related in ways he didn't want to consider.

But damn if those chipmunks hadn't been incredibly skilled at tracking people! They'd come to closest to capturing him, aside from Carmelita.

The blue-tressed vulpine considered that for a moment, having some empathy for the raccoon. "Well, hopefully... with me letting them go, your friends can start over. Get new identities, work towards new lives, _**purchase themselves some pants**_..." she turned her head to look at Sly. "Speaking of which, we should get you a pair **ASAP**. In prison, inmates that go around without them tend to end up becoming _currency_."

The master thief merely chuckled at the policewoman's warning. " **Please**! You act as if I'm actually going to prison."

Her eyebrows furrowing in newfound anger, the canid cop glared at her captive as she firmly told him, "Because you are."

Again, a small laugh reverberated in the masked mammal's throat. "Now, my dear Inspector," he said, as he took the bottle back from her and took a swig. "You seem to be counting your chickens before they're hatched. You have arrested me but you have yet to get me booked and locked up. For all you know, this might be some deceptively clever plan of mine to escape."

The woman rolled her eyes, feeling put off by the other mammal's belligerence. "And yet you are still here," she responded, taking the bottle back from him and taking a sip.

Sadly for her, Sly was still timing his words for when she was mid-gulp, if only to see her chest jiggle and wiggle as she coughed–it was a sight that made him just so darned happy. "Maybe I stayed behind to convince you to run away with me?"

He was not disappointed.

After she got over her coughing fit, the woman sputtered out in an unceremonious fashion, "Wuh-WHAT!?" She glared at him. "WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU ESTUPIDO CULO!?" Her ears pulling back taut against her scalp as she growled at him, the vixen firmly told him, "Sorry to burst your bubble, Cooper but there's no way in heaven or hell I would willingly turn to a life of crime! Especially not for some el cabrón like you!" She snarled as she brought her right hand forward, poking him in the chest.

Raising both his hands in a warding fashion, the raccoon kept the smile on his face. "I mean it, Carm! I've seen you handle yourself on your own. You took down any enemy that got in your way... lived on your own while travelling across continents–which is NOT easy in this modern information age," he said meaningfully. "Not to mention I saw you hotwire a tank! **A TANK**!" He praised. "Now _that_ takes some real skill!"

The woman blushed a bit, not expecting this kind of praise. "Hotwire, yes. However, I couldn't drive the damn thing to save my life. Your friends still caught up with and took the Clockwerk eye from me."

"Speaking of which, Bentley WAS upset when you shot him down with said tank. Last time I heard him squeal like that was the first time I broke into your office," he admitted with a roguish smile plastered on his face. "But you did walk on the other side of the line, Inspector. You got to see how the other half lived–that being my half, not the half with the Fiendish Five or those Klaww Gang goons." Returning his focus back to her, the smile never left his face. "And I know you enjoyed it," he said, sitting beside her as he took the bottle. "You may not want to admit it–even to yourself–but you got the same thrill I did."

The Hispanic vulpine waited until he was drinking before she responded. "So maybe then you'd like to try the reverse; want to try being a member of law enforcement?"

Despite the waste of her victory champagne, she took pride in actually seeing the man spit out the alcohol all over onto his side of his helicopter. "Ouch. That must have been painful," she said in such a sinister sweet and innocent way that practically beamed, 'I'm so innocent, butter won't melt in my mouth'.

Coughing and hacking, the raccoon turned his head to gaze at the vixen. "Okay... there's joking and then there's crossing the line!" He said in all seriousness. "Why would I _ever_ become a police officer? I've seen what you do! It's like... what, five forms of paperwork per crime!?"

"Non-violent crimes," Carmelita replied. Relaxing a bit in her seat, the red fox went on to continue to explain, "It's fifteen forms for violent crimes and then an extra tree forms per weapon or piece and extra five per victim discovered on the scene... and don't get me started on how many forms need to be filled out and filed if narcotics are involved!" God knew how much practice she'd gotten with those forms thanks to all the 'Spice' she had been dealing with since the whole Klaww Gang mess started.

Giving the woman a half-lidded stare, the ring-tailed male responded with a rather monotone if not sarcastic drone, "Thrilling."

The vulpine looked a little insulted. "What do you expect? Still, you should realize that there is more to law enforcement than pushing paperwork, Ringtail," she responded, taking the bottle back, noticing there was little more than half left. "Imagine what someone like you could do if you used your skills for good!"

Sly rolled his eyes, obviously nonplussed by the concept. "No thanks, Carmelita. It was that same 'good' side of the Law that ended up chasing you for a crime you didn't commit... although they have also seemed to have forgiven you for the ones you **did** commit." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Say what you will but I'd like to think my gang and I were a lot more _**honest**_ with each other than **that**."

Although she twitched in annoyance at the implications, the Latina spitfire chose not to comment on it. "Still, it's as I said. You do have skills, Cooper... and you definitely enjoy taking down criminals. What would it have taken to get you to actually try and do something with your life and take you down the path of law and order?"

Bringing his right gloved paw up to rub his chin, the ring-tailed thief considered the woman's inquiry for a moment. "Maybe having the police actually attempt to find my family's killers instead of tossing me into an orphanage for nearly a decade would have been a good start," he finally bit out nastily. Seeing the woman wince, he did soften a little and try to ease the blow with a bit of teasing. "Although these days? I could think of _one_ thing that would make me try to become an Interpol agent like you."

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity high enough that it disappeared into her hairline, the female red fox queried, "Que? What would that be, Ringtail?"

Smirking in a most devious manner, he sweetly replied, "If you turned your jeans in for a skirt."

Staring at him for a moment, she decided to let that comment go, while making a note to reopen his father's case to see if there had been any investigation done into it. She at least owed him that, considering he was going to be occupied for the next fifteen-to-twenty if not longer. And while she felt a bit guilty for what was occurring now, she swore an oath, and she took it very seriously. "The same could be said about you. If you don't have any pants, some of the rougher boys in the yard may take a chance on you... and not in the good way."

The raccoon groaned as she evaded responding to his comment. "Yeah, you mentioned that..." he murmured before smirking again. "Honestly though, it's a family thing," he repeated. "Murray and Bentley... they are all I have for family. And that's the sort of decision we made as a group that makes everyone comfortable, even if people outside of our little group aren't..." though lord knew he often caught Neyla staring. Tilting his head back so his scalp touched the interior wall of the helicopter, he told her, "Honestly, I think to get me into a pair of pants, I would need to try and form a new family. Find a good woman and have a couple of kids."

The vulpine woman considered those words. "Basically, you think being a father would make you have to be a good role model." It wasn't a question.

"And in the meantime, I would want to hide what only my girlfriend or wife should be seeing," he stated in all seriousness. "Currently I am a free agent now but if I ever settle down with Mrs. Right–or Mrs. Right-at-the-Moment–I think it would be best to keep her goods under wraps."

Rolling her eyes while taking another sip, the Latina vixen decided to query his little dream/come-on. "You really think you could settle down and be a respectable member of society, give up your family legacy, and all it would take would be finding the right woman?"

His chest puffing with pride, the raccoon offered Carmelita a firm nod of his head. "Of course!" Sly chirruped energetically. "The love of a good woman has been known to change many a good animals into better men."

Tilting her head as she looked at the man with a curious gaze, the Hispanic vulpine couldn't help but ask with a skeptical tone, "And you would give up a life of crime?"

The masked mammal merely offered the policewoman a shrug of his shoulders. Finally, after a moment of introspection, he explained, "Well, it would be extremely difficult to have a stable home life if you're worried about your children seeing dear old Dad being on TV or the police showing up at your door."

The vulpine woman nodded at that, having never known the thief had ever had such thoughts. _I guess Sly really has matured after all these years..._ she thought in wonder.

It was at that moment Cooper's mischievous grin blossomed across his muzzle once more. "Then again," he began in a far more energetic tone. "There _is_ something to be said about learning on the road, a life of travel to exotic locales and strange places, where the kids can learn useful skills from their Old Man..."

 _...And there went said moment_. Still, the Interpol Inspector did offer, "You can't be on the run forever. With how hard we work ourselves, our bodies are bound to be aching for a nice chair or desk job by the time you or I are in our fifties. I know Barkley was practically begging to finally accept that job as Commissioner when he finished teaching me everything he knew... it's a hard life on either side of the law."

The ring-tailed rascal opened his mouth... only to pause, frowning as he snapped his jaw shut with an audible click. "Huh... come to think of it, 'retirement' has never been a thing for Coopers. Our lives usually came to an end at the cold metallic talons of Clockwerk. With you destroying him for good, I might just be the first of my lineage to actually live to see old age..."

"Unless you get shanked in prison," Carmelita helpfully pointed out, reminding him that despite all they had been through she still wasn't letting him off the hook.

"Again with this prison thing," he said, rolling his eyes. "Between you wanting to get me into pants and talk about some ne'er-do-well doing some very bad things to me in prison, I must say I am a bit concerned about the signals you are sending me."

The vixen turned her head to meet the raccoon's stare with her own. "You **are** going to prison," she stated firmly, brooking no room for argument.

Fortunately, the raccoon wasn't the argumentative sort. "So you keep saying," he replied with a disinterested drawl before taking the moment to lean in close. "Should I be asking what I can do to get off for good behavior, Warden Fox?" He practically chirred.

She blinked her eyes. Whether he was actually asking her for help or being a smarmy bastard as he often liked to be, she decided to give him a hand. "Well, I _could_ put in a good word for you. However, you have been committing crimes for more than four years now, Cooper. There is **NO** getting around that. But if I mention the parts you played in taking down of even more villainous criminal scum, I might be able to mitigate the extent of time they'd have you behind bars... a couple of decades is a lot less than a life sentence if not multiple life sentences."

"YEESH!" The raccoon gasped. "You make it sound like I murdered someone!"

Her ears pressing back against her scalp, Carmelita stared at him.

"...Hey, I merely _tried_ to kill Clockwerk," Sly stated in his defense. "In the end, that one was all on you, my dear Inspector Fox."

Shaking her head in annoyance, the red vixen merely handed Cooper the bottle in an attempt to shut him up to get him to listen. "There is hardly any statute dealing with villains well into their fifth millennia or smashing a computer chip."

The career criminal raised a curious eyebrow at the woman's justification of her actions. "Oh really? Even if it had his brain if not soul coded onto it?"

The vulpine shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant manner, much like the master thief had been. "For all I know, it was a telemarketer's call list... and I sure as hell don't see you complaining about it." Nodding her head towards him hard enough for emphasis that she caused her navy blue tresses to bob, the vixen then firmly told the master thief, "He was also more machine than animal at this point. Do you feel anything when you dump your cell phones for a new one?"

Shaking his head in a good-natured fashion as a chuckle reverberated in his throat, Sly then calmly replied, "First off, we know for a fact Neyla was part of that thing. Secondly, who can trust those things? Binocucoms are the way to go!"

Carmelita couldn't help but wince when Cooper brought up that fact. It was true. Neyla _had_ merged herself with the Clockwerk frame, becoming that despicable automaton in the end. "The ex-Captain had a lot to answer for... that she killed herself to become part of a machine is something that, once again, falls under there being no statute or precedence to fall back on. I had to make a judgment call."

"Yeah," the ring-tailed thief chirruped in agreement. "I'll give you that one, Carm. And frankly I don't blame you for it." Realizing they had almost finished off the bottle, Sly turned his gaze back towards her. "So, what shall we talk about now? The champagne is almost gone but we seem to have taken several depressing turns in our conversation. We need something happy and fun before we finish this off."

The vixen considered that a bit. It's true. That conversation did turn into a downer... and things were going to get that much more real when she actually processed him. _Fuck it_ , she thought as she turned her head to look at the raccoon. "Well, if you want, I **suppose** a kiss wouldn't hurt..."

The grin that split across the raccoon's muzzle threatened to engulf his entire head.

The vulpine policewoman then glared at him, "BUT!" She barked out, snapping the mischievous felon back to reality. "If you handcuff me like you did the first time we kissed, I will kick your ring-tailed butt from here to Australia and back again! Got it!?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, the masked mammal chuckled. "Oh Carmelita... what kind of man do you take me for?"

Her eyes narrowing, she angrily reminded him, "You handcuffed me to the rickety railing of a work platform on the inside of a volcano and left me without a key. I almost died, Cooper!"

The masked mammal scoffed. "Oh please! You act like you were in any danger," Sly replied, waving off the vixen's irritation. "If it didn't explode or fall apart during our battle with Clockwerk, did you really think it would afterwards?"

" **YES**!" The vixen screamed with enough force to cause the brim of the man's hat to flip up.

As his cap gently fell back into place after the yelling stopped, Sly blinked his eyes once, twice, **thrice**. "...Huh," he murmured before bringing his left hand up to idly scratch his chin. "I totally misread that situation," he admitted before shrugging his shoulder. "But then again, you _were_ ready to arrest me, also on a rickety platform in an active volcano." He narrowed his eyes as he meaningfully pointed out, "And if worst came to worst, I would have had to escape with my hands literally tied behind my back..."

"I wouldn't have allowed you to fall into lava," she promised him. "Afterwards, I would have commandeered your van and driven us out while I had you and your friends restrained in the back. After all, I got in there with a jet-pack! I might be able to have carried you and/or Bentley out on my own power but Murray was a no go!"

The raccoon let off a laugh. "See? **THAT** would have brought you closer to death than being left handcuffed to some damaged scaffolding inside a volcano..." he trailed off as he considered something. "Then again, I felt you were in more danger when I got you to fall into a frozen river in China and allowed the current to take you down the mountain. Despite my worries of you coming down with hypothermia, you came back from that pretty quickly."

Growling at the memory of the trouble he gave her in China... the soaking, the freezing, the pain from hitting rocks and large shards of ice... the now thoroughly annoyed vulpine Inspector turned away from him with a huff. "Yeah. Thanks for reminding me of just how much of a culo indiferente you really are! I guess you don't want that kiss then..."

Realizing his screw-up, Sly placed her hands on her shoulders, quickly massaging her as he frantically told her, "Oh, but I do! I do, I do, I do, I really, **REALLY DO**!"

"...Not feeling it," she replied as she waved the criminal off.

The master thief slunk to his knees, inching closer to her. "Please! Pretty please! Pretty please with sugar and organic cherries on top!"

Chuckling lightly at how sad and pathetic he looked, trying to earn a single kiss from her, the vixen decided to put off any anger she might have felt for him. He did save her ass a few times over the last year they were on the run. "Fine... but only one kiss."

The raccoon looked up at her with eyes filled with hope despite being tinged with worry. "You mean on the lips, right?" He asked sweetly. "And it won't end with a kiss on my head, followed by a Taser to the guts, or anything else like that?"

Shaking her head to inform him it wouldn't, she then spoke softly as she looked at the raccoon posed as if he were ready to propose to her. "I promise you dirty Ringtail, this is a kiss. On the lips. You and me. No funny business whatsoever."

She had to force herself to keep from smiling as Sly straightened up and started performing the age-old, 'Snoopy Dance' that had been popular with American beagles during the 1960's and '70's. Still, to hide the fact he caught her off-guard, the vixen calmly asked, "Cooper, what do you think you're doing?"

"Why, my victory dance, of course!" He said as his feet seemingly raced back and forth in place as he tilted back his head and held his arms out to the sides, waving his limbs back and forth as if he just didn't care.

The vulpine woman blinked her eyes once, twice. _Good Lord, I don't even want to know what he would do if I allowed Cooper to get to third base_. "Settle down," she kindly chided. "Now are you ready?" She asked him sweetly.

Sly nodded his head rapidly, practically knocking his own hat off.

Finishing off the bottle, the lovely Latina smiled at him in a seductive manner. She then slowly leaned forward, eyes closing...

 ***THUD*!**

"...Ouch..." she grumbled irritably as she winced, the turbulence that shook the helicopter having caused them to fall to the floor.

When she opened her eyes again, the vulpine policewoman noticed Cooper was now hovering above her, arms on either side of her... and that he was missing the rest of his clothes.

Her shock grew as she looked at herself... and noticed she was in the same state. _Did that dirty Ringtails just steal my clothes!?_

"Carmelita?" He asked huskily, as he closed in on her lips.

The Hispanic vixen's eyes went wide. She didn't know what to do!

"I want you to know something," he whispered, his lips mere millimeters from her own. " _ **Ring!**_ "

Now the woman's lashes fluttered as she blinked her eyes in rapid succession "…Ring?" She asked in confusion.

" _ **Ring!**_ " Went Sly again.

Eyes blinking, Carmelita growled. "Oh—"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _*Ring*!_

"...Joderme..." was the vixen's tired and slightly muffled response as she blinked her right eye a number of times, unable to do so with her left. She lifted her head a bit to figure out what was going on, only to wince as she discovered the pillowcase stuck to her facial fur. "Que en el mundo?" She queried softly as she pushed her hand down, peeling it from her face with a wince as she did so. In freeing herself, the canid woman's nostrils were assaulted with the scent of old sweat and saliva.

She'd been drooling in her sleep.

 _*Ring*!_

She blinked her brown eyes again as her waking consciousness began to rev up. Realizing she was hearing her cell phone, the vulpine woman reached her right arm out for the device she left atop the nightstand. Her fingers pressing down now and then as her hand hovered above the piece to bedroom furniture before she eventually grasped the piece of cellular communication. Picking it up, the Hispanic woman brought it to her face, looking at the front screen. It was just past five pm. "Ugh... guess I should be thankful..." she murmured to herself. At least now she could make something of the evening and possibly sleep through the night. _I just can't believe I slept the afternoon away_... she thought with a bit of annoyance.

 _*Ring*!_

Staring at her phone, the woman cursed as she realized that, yes, it probably WOULD be a good idea to answer the damn thing. So sliding her thumb over the screen, the woman unlocked its functionary aspects. Frowning as she saw a number she didn't recognize, she still hit the answer button that showed up along the plastic surface of said screen, wanting to figure out what was going on. Hearing the audible beeping that signified she had answered the phone, the vulpine officer brought it to the side of her head. "Hola," she said in greeting. "Inspector Fox speaking..."

" _Carmelita_ ," came a gruff voice the woman immediately recognized as that of Chief Idriis M'Bogo. " _Where are you?_ " The tone was demanding but there seemed to be a hint of urgency to it as well.

The woman sighed. She could only imagine what bullshit he had to drop in her lap this time. "I'm just waking up, Sir," the Hispanic vixen replied as she brought a hand to her face and rubbed at her eyes to clear away the last vestiges of sleep. Rising her body up into a sitting position, the off-duty canid asked, "What's wrong? No offense, Chief but you sound worried."

The herbivore didn't answer her inquiry. " _I repeat_ ," the cape buffalo began once more on his end of the line. " _Where. Are. You_?"

That made the woman blinked her eyes once, then twice. She stared down at her cell for a moment before bringing it back up to the side of her head. "I'm at Mrs. Honey Badger's residence; it's a farm in—"

" _The Happy Town District_?" The deep baritone voice of the Chief of the Zootopia Police Department interrupted her.

The man's sudden inquiry made the vixen pause once again for a moment. "Y-yes, actually" she replied, surprised that he was quick to suggest such. The vulpine woman didn't think she had told her superior her location before but then again the ebony-skinned herbivore was friends with her own boss, Commissioner Barkley. The old badger knew the whole story so perhaps he had told the African buffalo. "How did you—"

" _I homed in on the tracking device that's implanted into your cruiser_ ," he offered before the woman could finish speaking. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, " _All the ZPD vehicles are equipped with them both as an anti-theft measure as well as other reasons_... _you can thank Internal Affairs for that monitoring measure. At the moment, I'm standing by your squad car on land that looks like a farm out in this abandoned area. Would you be so kind as to let me in_?"

"Ah, I see..." Carmelita said slowly in understanding. She looked over herself and sighed. While not as undressed as she normally was for bed, the female red fox wasn't exactly what she would consider being ready for company. "Can you wait maybe five more minutes? I'm not exactly decent at the moment."

There was a pause on the other side for a moment before it offered, if not commanded, " _You have_ _ **three**_."

Two and a half minutes later, Carmelita, dressed in a white tank top and black denim biker shorts, opened the door of the farmhouse, allowing the police chief entry. "Hola!" The woman greeted pleasantly enough. "Am I to assume that something important happened?" She asked as she looked up at the much larger prey mammal. He was dressed in full uniform and a black duster coat that looked as though it had seen better days. The Latina watched as he ducked his head and turned his body to the side, maneuvering himself in through the much smaller–in that it was both shorter and narrower–door before straightening up on the other side with her before holding something in a plastic bag out to her. "What is this?" She asked as her eyes looked down at the solid white baggy.

"Take it and see for yourself," the larger man said as he turned his torso once more slightly, using his other hooved hand to gently grasp the door handle and close it shut behind him. "It's a little something from Precinct Fourteen's Deputy Chief Alekseevich; I made some calls and he had something on hand in approximation to your size so you'll have something to use while we wait for the Acquisition Request Office to get back to you formally."

Blinking her eyes at that statement, the vixen felt her fingers along the surface of the bag; the pressure beneath revealed to her that the contents were both pliable yet firm. Opening the plastic bag outright, the Hispanic red fox came to find it was, "Another armored vest." Although it was in black, it was definitely close to her size and emblazoned with the badge of the Zootopia Police Department over the left breast much like her blue one had been.

Allowing the woman a few seconds to inspect the piece of equipment for herself, the cape buffalo nodded his head as he admitted, "Granted, the vest isthe Tundratown District police's colors but it's still ZPD regalia. No one should bat an eye if you need to use it for a few days or even a few weeks, depending on how long it takes Acquisitions to get back to you."

Left unsaid was the only reason they even had one close to Officer Fox's size was that it had belonged to a bubbly blonde Arctic minx who was more than happy to loan it out while she continued to work the front desk.

Continuing to look the piece of armor over, the woman replied, "Really? Well that's nice of them. Are the Tundratown police that welcoming?" She asked while she raised a hand up to scratch the side of her head in confusion. Not that the lovely Latina was complaining, oh heavens no! She just wanted to know why they would go out of their way for her. Hopefully it was because the department just wanted to help a fellow officer out and **not** due to Kozlov threatening mammals into doing what he wanted.

The much larger mammal let out a grunt in response. "After they got through studying it, Forensics let me know that the one you had been originally issued is no longer viable. It took a number of ten millimeter slugs during your altercation with Mr. Pig at the Cash Cow in the Downtown District. It held up for as long as it needed to but it's beyond salvage. So I put in the request for a few more in your size so you have them on hand but for the time being I had to search around to see if ANY of the Departments had one... ironically, it was the Precinct I had just visited this afternoon that had something they could offer. An Officer Aleutian was more than willing to lend you one of hers..." he smirked. "After all, you gave them the opening to take care of a proverbial thorn that had been in their side for quite some time." The small smile near-instantly turned back to a frown as he explained, "The Velveteen brothers."

Finally looking up from the protective garment, Carmelita stared up at her superior officer in confusion. _What? When did I_... her line of thinking trailed off as she frowned in return. "Does this have to do with a pair of ruffian rabbits that I had to deal with this morning?" She hadn't thought much of them but the name was now tickling at the back of her mind.

But at least this much made sense. It had been awhile since her clothes had gotten that torn up in a fire fight after all and if she aided the police of that district, even unknowingly, they would be more apt to help her.

"The very same," Chief Bogo calmly replied.

Nodding her head, the Latina vulpine let off a snort. "I should have known. It seems everyone of importance in Tundratown is a renowned criminal in one form or another." She shook her head with undisguised disgust, especially since she had ended up becoming entangled with the Kholodno Bratva because of such. "So let me guess? Were they hired snitches? Thieves? Racketeers? Gigolos?" Considering how flagrantly wild they were dressed, the canid cop would have bet good money on that last one.

Taking a deep breath, the police chief's chest expanded considerably; the buttons on his shirt straining to keep themselves in place as the wall of muscle behind them pressed forward. Exhaling slowly, the African buffalo told her, "It would be best if we go further into the house." He turned his head to look at the window that let light directly into the house's living room. "I believe it would be best to sit down before we continue further... where no one can see us."

Sighing, Carmelita could only wonder what landmine she had stepped on this time. "Come to the kitchen," the vulpine woman said as she motioned behind her as she raised her right hand and thumbed over her shoulder. Turning about fully, she began to walk towards the open door frame into the culinary area as she told him, "I'll put on a pot of coffee."

Following after the woman, he told her, "That would be for the best." As the buff bovidae entered the kitchen, he looked about the room for a moment before making his way over to the table. As he looked over the booth, deciding how to best actually get into it, he added, "To be honest, I would have more respect for them than I do if they _were_ gigolos."

The woman blinked her eyes at that comment, now genuinely curious as to what was going on. Still, she would wait for the time being before getting into the thick of things as she did promise him a cup of coffee. Such amounted to bringing out Honey's 1955 Presto coffee percolator and loading it with water and the pre-ground coffee beans.

Doing his best to slide himself into the rounded booth that surrounded the kitchen table, the ebony-skinned herbivore was more than a little displeased to find the furniture was bolted to the ground, causing his rock-hard abs to grind up against the edge of said table. _I should have gotten a chair_ , he thought with a little annoyance. Still, he was going to deal with it; no use complaining. Raising his left arm, the buffalo reached his right hand over his chest to the pocket sewn into the interior lining of his coat for the file he had tucked away there. The information he had was too important for him to whine over the little inconsequential aspects of life.

Although the African buffalo suspected that if he took too deep a breath he would break the table. And for some reason, the thought of that made him mentally shudder; that fear that he would be destroying a part of history! "This entire place feels like a throwback to the old days," Bogo muttered as he looked around the room once more as he took stock of the style of decor and appliances. "And I mean the actual good parts of the old days."

As she allowed the coffee to come to a boil, the vulpine looked over her shoulder... she couldn't help but smirk as she saw him gazing about the kitchen with a badly disguised look of delight. "I felt the same way when I first saw it too. Trust me, Chief, none of this is retro or refitted... this is all the original stuff."

Placing the paperwork down on the table, the man sighed. "...Makes me feel like we should be placing a call to the American Pickers," he couldn't help but comment as his deep brown eyes gazed about the decorations of the room. It was somewhat Spartan in just what was on display but everything in the kitchen was quality work.

The vixen let out a bark of laughter at that. "I doubt Honey would enjoy having more mammals in her home. Hell, I'm surprised Nick managed to talk the badger into allowing _me_ to stay!" While she had managed to build up some camaraderie with the older carnivore at this point, it was painfully obvious to the lovely Latina that the middle-aged mustelidae wouldn't have had anything to do with her if her fellow red fox hadn't been so insistent on her behalf. "Heck, I feel if it wasn't for the fact you're the Chief of Police, she probably wouldn't want you here either."

Bogo nodded his head. "Because she doesn't want people to know that she's living in a bunker." The man's tone of voice let his subordinate know it was a statement rather than a question.

That caused the vixen to pause in her brewing. Turning about from the stove completely as to face her current boss, the Interpol Inspector couldn't help but query, "You know about that?"

Nodding his head firmly in affirmation, the beefy bovine let off a grunt as he did. "Of course I do. This is the woman that does my taxes."

"..." Carmelita blinked her eyes once, twice, _**thrice**_.

Noting the perplexed expression on the woman's face, the ebony-skinned herbivore breathed deeply. "It was Officer Clawhauser's idea," he explained. "I wouldn't have known about her at all if it weren't for him." Admittedly, he was rather glad he took the chubby cheetah up on his offer. Mrs. Badger was far more reliable than the accountants at Herbivore & Rodent Block had been, of that much he was certain.

"I see," the orange-pelted vulpine replied as her eyes gazed about to the tabletop. "So... may I ask what's in the file?" Carmelita queried as the coffee continued to brew. It was hard to miss the set of documents. She knew they had to be the horned herbivore's, seeing as the folder hadn't been there before the chief's arrival.

"Something we **need** to talk about..." he said firmly. "But I'll let you finish making our coffee first. I don't want you getting distracted. If this stuff IS from the Fifties, I doubt it's up to modern fire code standards."

"...You're right, it's probably not. Knowing my luck, it will explode if you don't treat it right," Carmelita huffed; she couldn't argue the man's logic. "Besides that, what do you want anything in your coffee?" She asked as she turned her attention back to the steel container that was turning red at its base, the glass cap slowly cycling bubbling drips of heated darkened water.

"Just a sugar or two, packet or cube," the man replied honestly. He frowned as he could feel his phone vibrating as he had it on silent, but he chose to ignore it for now. He could only imagine that it was more of the same; it had been a couple of years since he had left his office in Precinct One for any considerable amount of time during working hours.

Nodding her head to the request, the vulpine was quick to ask, "Will agave do?" She wasn't much for granular sugar and Nick couldn't find any liquid for her, so she went for her old standby for substitute: cactus nectar.

"...Sure," the buffalo said slowly, not sure what agave was but sure as hache-ee-double-hockey-sticks hoping it wasn't an artificial sweetener.

The woman smiled and nodded her head firmly enough that it caused her mane of navy blue tresses to bob with the motion. "Coming right up!" She chirruped sweetly.

A few minutes later the coffee was made, the Agave added, and Carmelita handed it to Chief Bogo. "So..." she began as the man accepted the cup with his hooved hands. "May I know what's in the file now?" She carefully requested as second time, her bright brown eyes drawn to the manila folder held closed with a pair of paperclips.

This time she did indeed get an answer. "A case Precinct One had to deal with this afternoon in conjunction with Precinct Six in the Downtown District," he said in all seriousness. "There was a firebombing."

The vixen tensed up a little at **that** response. "Dios bueno..." the Inspector whispered in her native tongue as she shook her head in sympathy. "Is anyone hurt?"

The horned herbivore just looked at her firmly. "Before we go into this, allow me to make one thing perfectly clear. I was called into District Fourteen... aka 'Fourteen-Below' this morning because I had to deal with the aftermath of the altercation you had at the Snow Palace Resort. Remember when I said, I would have been prouder of those two if they were just male prostitutes? Well, you know what they are instead?" He waited for Carmelita to slip into the booth with him before telling her, "Bankers."

The woman blinked her eyes at him, a little confused by that answer. "...Bankers are worse than prostitutes?" She queried, not seeing the correlation.

The herbivore grunted. "In this case, yes. As for why, you guess who their father is," Chief Bogo replied... before blinking his eyes in shock as Carmelita started banging her head against the tabletop as she cursed in Spanish. "...I take it you've already figured it out." Again, the mammal's statement wasn't a question.

"I swear to God, there are more landmines in this town than had been planted in Vietnam!" She cursed angrily. Bringing her right hand up to rub her forehead and try to avert an oncoming migraine she could feel forming, the vulpine woman ground her teeth in aggravation. "So now a Councilman is pissed off that I defended myself against his bastard children, huh?"

Taking a sip of his coffee for a moment, the police chief shook his head. "Surprisingly, no," the water buffalo began calmly as he placed his cup down on the table before turning his gaze towards at his aggravated officer. "He's actually infuriated that because of them attacking you, an officer and current civil servant of Zootopia... it's **sticking**."

Blinking her eyes a couple of times at the man's response, Carmelita turned her gaze to look up at the much taller mammal. "...Pardon?" She queried, making sure she heard that properly

Nodding his head, the muscular herbivore confirmed, "Quite. Apparently, despite being the sons of the owner of the Tundratown District's most prominent bank... you had all kinds of mammals coming out of the woodworks... or in this case, snow dunes... to give testimony in your defense. Literally, two dozen eyewitness accounts and even hotel staff even graciously supplied its security footage. Everything matched up. You were roughly manhandled and defended yourself from the eldest son and assaulted by the younger with a deadly weapon. So despite them being children of one of the members of the City Council..." he managed to smile, even if only a little. "Justice is being served."

The Hispanic vulpine visibly relaxed at that. "Well that's good," she replied before letting off a sigh of relief, the woman surprised to discover she'd been holding her breath. "I was worried the other shoe was going to drop on my head or something for a second there."

At those words, a frown graced the much larger mammal's face, tugging firmly at the corners of the bovine's face. "That is what this report is about..." he said in all seriousness as he placed his hooved hand down atop of it and slid it closer to the vixen. "Take a look through the info and tell me if anything stands out to you."

Gazing down at the offered manila folder, the woman's lips pulled back against her muzzle to form a frown of her own. Placing her right hand atop of it, the woman allowed the chief a moment to remove his hooves before she pulled it to her the rest of the way. Picking it up in her hands, the vulpine woman flipped the lid open and her eyes skimmed over the report.

Almost immediately, the vixen's vision had that overlapping haze she'd come to know as her Inspector's Intuition kick in. Orange lights sparkled over certain words and even emphasized a couple of the photos that were included. She didn't immediately read the report but instead grabbed one of the pictures included as part of the file's contents... and her eyes widened with recognition. "Flamingle Flats?"

Pleased to see the woman near-instantly picked up on what he needed her to, the Chief of the ZPD explained, "Yes. Flamingle Flats had been firebombed two hours ago, around three o'clock this afternoon."

"...Why would anyone firebomb that—" the Interpol Inspector cut herself off as understanding hit her like a sack of bricks. "Wait! Flamingle Flats! That's the condo I was supposed to... be... staying..." Carmelita trailed off as she realized just what her superior officer was angling at. Letting off a small sigh, the woman looked up at Bogo in resignation. "Someone was gunning for me, weren't they?"

Nodding his head, Idriis said, "I personally had to deal with Captain Alekseevich and a _very_ annoyed and angry Councilman Velveteen who promised me, 'this wasn't over'... and within three hours of THAT meeting we had, this happened!" He motioned to the folder. "And as you can see the source of the explosion was from incendiary devices that were, of all the housing in the complex, planted in the condo I had paid for your stay. Your name was still on the registry."

The woman's left ear twitched in irritation. Such was pretty damning and it angered her to think some mammal had the gall to think they could get away with cold blooded murder. "I take it that my staying here is off the record?"

"Off the record," he confirmed. "Hell, if something happened to this place, Officer Clawhauser would personally break someone." There was no way that Bogo was going to let anyone know she was living here if this was indeed where she was living while working as part of the mayor's Mammal Inclusion Initiative. Sighing, the horned herbivore then went on to explain, "Just take a look at the file and read the details for yourself. It explains why this is thought to have been an attempted hit rather than an act of terrorism."

Frowning, the Hispanic red fox gazed over the actual written file. The reports by officers on the scene, conclusions made by Forensics... particularly the casualty involved. "Someone set it up to explode as soon as anyone opened the door." It wasn't a question.

Nodding his head, Idriis replied, "I've lived in this city and worked with Zootopia's government for too long to know there are no such things as coincidences. It would have been a one-in-a-million-chance otherwise for an attack to have happened as soon as someone opened the door to your condo. As it stands, the late Mr. Fleeceman just happened to have the poor luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Mr. Fleeceman!?" Carmelita gasped. "That dumb sheep that threw me out... is..." she trailed off, unable to voice her thoughts. Yes, the damn herbivore had been an asshole but no one deserved to simply die in such a violent fashion. Forcing herself to get back on topic, the vixen instead asked, "So, what makes you so certain City Hall is involved?" Granted, it was plainly obvious but she hoped the man had evidence they could use to formally arrest those scumbags.

Crossing his arms over his chest, the muscular bovine told her, "Because they were pushing to keep the truth of what happened OUT of the media... that they wanted us to claim it was an electrical fire... all while condolences over the fate of the, 'late Inspector Fox' made the rounds before we had actual confirmation of death or identity of the body."

"...Should I pop up on TV going, 'Boo! I'm a ghost! Boo!' while covered in flour?" She gave him a wry smirk. Within four seconds, both officers were actually laughing at the ludicrous suggestion despite the seriousness of the situation.

Shaking his head, the mirth soon left the horned herbivore. "I'm serious, Fox. Watch yourself and stay low here in Happytown. I've let a select few know you're still alive; trust me, Officer Clawhauser was one of them... otherwise this would have been absolutely devastated him. But I did that not just to make sure you could get help but to also vet out those I trust. If word gets out about your condition BEFORE you return officially..."

Considering that for a moment, the vixen gazed up, trying to meet the burly bovidae's darker brown eyes with her lighter set. "But what about Forensics? I'm pretty certain their reports are making the rounds."

"Oh, they will be... but I've been delaying them getting to the City Council," he smirked. "I felt it would be best to let them saber rattle for a bit before I rain on their parade by letting them know Officer Fox is still somewhere out there and the fact some mammal's paws are now stained with the blood of the innocent. I figure a little sobering truth might do them a little good and get them to stay off your back if only for a little bit, while any mourning in the Precinct might cause others to gain respect through a bit of self-reflection."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the vixen told him, "That sounds rather underhanded." She would rather **NOT** gain any sympathy or assistance over worry for her.

"A little bit, I admit. Cloak and dagger politics aren't normally the option I take but I can accept when it's needed," the African buffalo told her in a firm and unrepentant tone. "Some mammals don't appreciate what they have until it's gone and going nearly a day thinking you got killed might do them a world of good..." he smirked. "As well as possibly scare the right people if you come back before they get word you _**hadn't**_ been killed... possibly some mammals that work with the TUSK division..."

Now the vixen couldn't help but smirk. "Why Chief, with what you're suggesting, I can't help but feel as though you don't like Captain Razorback..."

The larger prey mammal let off a grunt of annoyance. "I like Razorback as much as I like getting my bill after a meal and discovering the restaurant charged me for tap water!"

Gawking at the man's unique take on the matter, the vixen whistled. "Wow. It's that bad, huh?"

Carmelita could actually hear the groan as it reverberated in police chief's muscular throat. "Officer Fox, I'll be blunt: TUSK might have had a purpose once upon a time but as the years went by, its true colors began to shine through the veneer that had been draped over them thanks to the government's narrative. They weren't a shield to defend the prey populace; they were a squad of correctional officers roaming the prison that was the life we created for the carnivores in Tame Collars. They bullied and beat predators into submission to keep them downtrodden and submissive. I've never been able to fully eliminate the department, only shrink it down in size and scope as well as turn their attention to something more legitimate as a secondary SWAT team." His fists clenched atop the table. "Trust me when I say there's no love lost between the Captain and I. We keep things professional between us as officers of the law but that's it."

Her shoulders sagging slightly, the vixen shook her head in annoyance. "Lovely. And I'm in the crosshairs, aren't I?" She asked, easily able to guess how bad it could get and how quickly in no small part thanks to this attempted attack on her life.

Looking down at the smaller predator, the cape buffalo sighed. "Frankly my dear, it's a good thing you were suspended. I'm going to need all tomorrow to try and set up some form of damage control. So please, just keep your head down in the meantime: stay here in the forgotten depths of the Downtown District. No mammal comes out here and it's a good place to keep out of sight from the populace. When you have to return Friday, it will be a chance to explain outright what's going on... and hopefully we'll be able to keep from stepping on more toes with the reveal that you're okay."

Mulling over that for a moment, the Hispanic vixen reluctantly nodded her head. "I guess I can stay out of sight for another day." Granted, she didn't like the idea but it would be nice to catch up on her sleep. Plus she could call Nick to get food if she needed it. "Oh yeah..." she muttered as she remembered the LAST time he went to get her food. "Trust me, Chief, I'll keep my head down."

Exhaling a bit in relief, the cape buffalo told her, "That's all I can ask..." he then grasped his cup of coffee. Now that it had cooled a bit, he brought it to his lips and took a long drag, practically guzzling it down in one go. Smacking his lips, he had to replied, "Not bad... that agave stuff actually tastes something like sugar."

"It's as close as I can get to liquid sugar when none is available," Carmelita explained. She watched as the man started to get up before asking, "So I take it the reason you were so quick to find me another vest was for my personal protection... in case City Hall manages to get their act together faster than you anticipate?"

Pausing in the middle of exiting from the booth, the big and beefy buffalo turned his gaze to the much smaller canid cop. "Carmelita," he began, calling the woman by her first name to her face in an effort to show the woman the visit wasn't completely police business but it was still serious. "Just trust me on this and promise me one thing. Promise that whenever you go out from now on, you'll be armed... it would be in your best interest."

The woman frowned more, getting the taller prey mammal's message loud and clear. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere without protection after my experiences over the past few days." Last night in particular _**really**_ drove the point home for her.

The ebony-skinned herbivore gave a grunt of acknowledgement to that. "Smart move," he told her as he stood up and made his way towards the front door of the farmhouse as he exited the kitchen. "You can keep the file, Fox. Look over it and consider the situation. Depending on how things go Friday, we might be able to get you opportunity to investigate into certain aspects... perhaps you could help expose the truth."

Her muzzle pulled back in a frown, Carmelita realized what he was getting at with that comment. It was obvious from how pleased he had sounded earlier, that the police chief had appreciated the fact they finally had the opportunity to pin a genuine felony on someone related to the City Council. A chink in the armor had been made, offering the ZPD a unique opportunity to break through their normal political immunity before they reconsolidated their standing.

The Hispanic policewoman just didn't appreciate that it was going to cause the biggest target of all to be put on her head. _At least he got me another vest_ , the vulpine thought glumly as she watched the powerful prey mammal duck down once more so he could exit the premises.

Looking on as the African buffalo made his way to his own cruiser, one thing was certain to the vixen. She was going to need some help if she was to make it through what was now going to be hostile territory. True, she had a certain group of polar bears at her beck and call for aid if she really, **really** needed but Inspector Fox did have other sources for assistance.

Stepping back inside the farm house and closing the door, the Latina vulpine locked the door before turning about and making her way towards her bedroom. She had a call to make...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tucked away within the depths of his science lab situated within the bowels of Paris–in the sewers to be precise–the box turtle Bentley's fingers typed away furiously at the keyboard before him as he stared up at the giant screen that took up a third of an entire wall. While it was true that the old saying went, 'a man's home is his castle' the reptile's laboratory was a special underground facility where experiments were done with gusto, damn the consequences. Sure, he worked with the typical tools of the trade such as computers, centrifuges, beakers, burners, and other gear necessary to complete complex experiments but his lab also contained some rather obscure pieces of equipment for his research. The turtle worked with a refrigerated room-sized freezer, atomic-powered ultron-microscopes, multiple polymer-injection three-dimensional printers, and even uranium-depletion units... the latter of which, besides offering unique materials, also supplied the 1.21 gigawatts of electrical power required to operate the facility and its numerous work-stations!

And yet, the continued discoveries of science meant nothing to the turtle as they once had. The betrayal of his ex-girlfriend Penelope Maus had brought him back to the reality of what **was** important: family. And being orphaned at a young age meant not the family he was born into but the ones he grew up alongside. He had contact with Murray whenever he needed it but his search for Sly was becoming more brutal as time went on. It didn't help that in trying to find evidence of Sly Cooper somewhere, anywhere in time, all the traces and leads he got just ended with him discovering even more history about the most prominent Cooper of that era! Even with his specialized research and connections, this quest to find the master thief became something akin to trying to find a needle in a haystack!

"The worst part is, so many of his ancestors look like him," the wheelchair-bound turtle mumbled to himself. Such meant Bentley couldn't ever be a hundred-percent sure if something he found pertained to Sly or one of his ancestors until he spent more time than necessary actually investigating. Either way, this search was so...

So... 

_**Frustrating**_.

The semi-aquatic reptile had to snort. He was blessed with an IQ of two-hundred and eleven, yet he was having trouble sifting the most basic facts from the histories he slowly uncovered. Granted, that wasn't helped at all by the fact that history and records weren't kept as well in certain eras as they were in others but with the Thievius Raccoonus, even he should have had enough background knowledge to be able to pry **more** from it than some leads to go by! _It's almost as if he's trying to not be found_ , Bentley mentally griped as he continued to follow the history of a certain corsair treasure stolen from Japan, re-stolen from Britain, and brought back to the Eastern Islands... just taking something to return it was a rather Robin Hood-esque thing and it was likely a Cooper that would have done it.

Ten minutes more and he discovered the scans of a few different hundreds-of-year-old transcripts to realize the guards were describing a female raccoon... with a hook in place of a hand rather than on the end of a staff.

"Captain Henriette 'One-Eye' Cooper..." the turtle let off a defeated sigh. He might as well continue to look over the rest of the testimonials; there might be mention of a male helping her.

"...Huh..." he trailed off as he read the records over. They told of a pirate captain who was always on the lookout for the next treasure, booze, fun and–from what he could tell by reading between the lines–her next fling. "...Either she was quite open-minded for the era or she just didn't care who she was with." He muttered as he found the story about the little bar wench that One-Eye took as a personal attendant.

Still, this did sound a little something like Sly... minus the killing, the drinking, and the insane laughter of course.

The poor bespectacled reptile shivered at the mental imagery that went through the back of his mind. _Thank the Heavens above Le Paradox never thought to screw with her era_ , the poor criminal genius thought with a bit of relief. _I can only imagine what we would have been forced to deal with if he had!_

Then again, considering his records they might have dealt with her already... against all odds, the timing the older ninja's career and the young nautical-oriented raccoon's meant that Riochi Cooper, the developer of the Ninja Spire Jump, was Henriette's father. Bentley could only wonder what kind of woman the sushi-slinging shinobi ended up with in his golden years that caused their daughter to go the route of piracy and get the Cooper bloodline out of old Edo.

Most of the following exploits that he read were about what she stole, the various people she met with in private, and the narrow escapes with the European authorities; a fleet of the British Navy headed by a, 'Commodore Fox' in particular. "But it all came to an end eventually." He sighed as he shook his head. Some of the tales he was uncovering were pretty interesting. "An armored Eurasian mercenary swooped in and..." Bentley blinked his eyes at that. He brought his hand up to the side of his head, adjusting his glasses as he frowned. "Swooped in? Eurasian? Nah, just wording I'm sure."

It wasn't like Clockwerk was one to work with the authorities... right?

The turtle's face became more beak-like as his lips tugged back into a frown. Considering the lengths Clockwerk would go JUST to take down the Coopers, would it truly be beneath him to actually partner up with the law enforcement of the local ruling class just to make sure Henriette died? _Considering the Thievius Racoonus stated she was immune to the mechanical menace's hypnosis because she lacked one of her eyes meant he might have tried to reciprocate the loss of such ability in other more unconventional ways_... the reptile thought with dread.

However, before the glasses-adorned genius could have more time to mull over such theories or what-if scenarios, his train of thought was derailed when the ringing noise of his binocucom's alert function sounded out from the backrest of his wheelchair. Bringing his left hand up to press one of the buttons on the console embedded into the armrest of said mobile seat, there was a crackle as a microphone in it came to life, putting the line on speaker system. "Hello, hello! Bentley speaking..." he had a feeling it was the lovely Inspector Fox, considering if it had been Murray, his Binocucom would have gone off outright instead of its secondary cellular phone function: the device made it far more difficult for law-enforcement agencies to trace his calls.

" _Hola, Bentley_!" The familiar feminine voice called out. " _Carmelita here_."

"Good morning, Inspector Fox!" The scientifically-inclined semi-aquatic animal chirruped happily. Bringing his hands up in front of his face, the man tapped his fingers together as he queried, "How are things going this fine morning?"

The line was quiet for a moment. " _Morning_?" The voice of the Interpol Inspector repeated. "... _Bentley, when was the last time you went outside_?"

Bentley blinked his eyes at that sarcastic bit of commentary. "AH! Right. Time difference," he said with a bit of a snort, hoping she would leave things at that and not pry into the fact the last time he had actually left the lab was to meet the vixen at her apartment. Bringing his right hand up to the side of his head to readjust his glasses, the shelled reptile queried, "What I should say is: 'Good evening, Inspector Fox. How are things in Zootopia'?" He tapped his fingers on the armrest and continued with, "Have things gotten better since the rough start you had in the city?"

The sigh that reverberated over his speakers was more than enough to let the genius know she was having a hard time of it. " _Muy terriblé, Bentley_ ," the lovely Latina voice responded in all seriousness. " _First off, let me ask one thing and I need you to be honest: you didn't happen to recently send or sell any of your explosives to anyone in Zootopia, have you_?"

The box turtle's eyes blinked repeatedly behind the Coke bottle-thick lenses of his glasses. "Er, of course not," he replied, already getting a bad feeling as to where this was going. Still, he gave her the opening to explain by asking, "Why do you ask, Carmelita?"

" _I just needed to make sure_ ," the woman said slowly. " _While I'm glad you didn't I am actually a little sad to hear such is the case_... _because it would have given me a lead to figuring out who would be crazy enough to firebomb my condo_!" She practically roared out that last part, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

"Wait, wait! Firebomb? **FIREBOMB**!?" Bentley yelled out in shock as he tried to mentally digest what the red vixen told him. Leaning forward as he opened a new window on his monitor, the man started furiously typing on his keyboard to find out what she was talking about. "What happened? Did you piss off the local mafia or something?"

The woman was silent on her end for a while with those words; a little too quiet for the shelled reptile's preference. " _That is rather astute observation and yet quite the opposite actually_ ," the vixen finally answered.

That made the male scientist pause in his typing. "...Pardon?" The box turtle queried, curious as to why the policewoman would offer such a response. "What do you mean? A yes or no question shouldn't be answered in a yes _**and**_ no fashion!"

A sigh could be heard over the line, one of fatigue and frustration. _"Bentley, so much has gone on in the past forty-eight hours alone that you wouldn't believe. I stopped a major career criminal_... _**again**_ _. And he was another one that had the backing of the City Council I might add_ ," she stated with a bit of pride. " _I also happened to piss off an up-and-coming Italian-American rodent-lead polar bear Mafia gang_..."

Shaking his head in a good-natured fashion, Bentley chuckled a bit as a smile spread over his features. "Wouldn't have it any other way, right?" That was his Inspector Fox: always getting in over her head by doing the right thing.

Then, rather reluctantly, the vulpine on the other end of the line continued with, " _And_... _well_... _I might have ended up being anointed the Patron Saint of a Russian Bratva_."

Needless to say, the grin immediately dropped from the reptile's face. This was indeed one of those rare moments he'd been caught fully off-guard. After a few moments of silence, he managed to finally blurt out a dull inquiry of, " **What**?"

" _Apparently my past exploits are well known in the criminal underworld of Zootopia_ ," the Interpol Inspector said in all seriousness. " _And one of my missions in particular ended up helping a member of the Russian Mob out and now_..." she trailed off as she sighed in exasperation. " _To be blunt, I'm being treated as royalty by his gang_."

The man blinked his eyes, carefully mulling over this new information. "...I see..." Bentley said slowly, not making any snap judgments. He understood how something like this probably irked the lawfully-inclined Latina's sensibilities. "Any particularly gang and mission I should know about?" The shelled reptile asked out of professional curiosity. "I mean, you obviously _sound_ like you could use a hand and if you need me to get you more background information of them, I will..." he brought his hands back to the keyboard, prepared to type.

The female red fox was silent on her end of the line for a bit. " _It's the Kholodno Bratva_ ," she finally admitted. " _The leader of the gang has admitted that they're pretty much retired in an official sense and has tried to set up more honest work in Zootopia's Tundratown District_..." she trailed off. It was obvious she wanted to say more but held back.

Although the canid policewoman wouldn't be able to see it, Bentley merely nodded his head as he was looking up what he could about the Kholodono. Hmm... it seemed they had quite the rise to prominence in Russia during the mid-Nineties before fizzling out a decade later into mere jewel smugglers, particularly in the illegal African diamond trade. "All right, so a bunch of ursine enforcers who like shiny things have come to view you with a considerable level of admiration. Just what did you do to earn it?"

"... _I happened to help take down their boss during a mission to Russia_ ," she said carefully, giving the man on the other end of her phone a chance to process the information. Realizing how that may have sounded, she went on to further explain, " _To be more precise, I took down the usurper who had killed the current Boss's father in a literal hostile takeover_."

Bringing his right hand up to his chin, the box turtle gently rubbed at his jaw in fascination. "Well, that would endear you to them wouldn't it?"

The Hispanic vulpine was silent for a long moment. When she began it was slow, with as little emotion to her voice as possible. "... _Yes_... _I took him down in 2007_... _at the Krack-Karov volcano_... _with the help of Sly_."

And just like that, the truth came crashing down on the turtle like a sack full of bricks. "Wait! Wait-wait-wait- **WAIT**!" He shouted into the air, his eyes going nearly as wide the lenses of his glasses. "You mean to tell me these guys who practically canonized you amongst their order... were Clockwerk's **minions**!?"

"... _Yes_..." the woman's sigh practically reverberated over the line. " _I'm beginning to think there are no such things as coincidences, only the inevitable_."

Tapping the fingers of his right hand on the armrest of his wheelchair, the shelled reptile mulled over the policewoman's observation for a moment. "Good or bad?"

"... _Yes_..." the Latina answered again.

The genius twitched. "Damn it, Inspector Fox!" The turtle snapped irritably. "Stop giving me the mathematician answers already," he told her in all serious. "That's _**my**_ job! I'm the one with the IQ to legitimately pull it off!" He smiled as that managed to elicit a chuckle from the woman on the other end of the line. "Seriously though? A Bratva loves you because–let's be honest here–you likely got one-hundred percent of the credit for taking down that monster..."

"... _Both times_ ," the female red fox admitted shamefully. At least the second time Sly had practically demanded she take the credit as to save her career with Interpol. " _But as it stands, neither of those gangs is why I am worried for my life. You of all animals_ _ **know**_ _that I can take care of myself when it comes to the scum of organized crime_! _Oh no_ ," she growled, the anger in her voice obvious. " _What I can't seem to handle are lawfully-elected officials abusing their power to try and murder me and end up killing an innocent instead_!"

"...Wait... what?" Bentley asked, before remembering that yes, Carmelita and he HAD been talking about her condo being firebombed before they got off on the tangent about the Russsian mafia. With a surprising amount of speed for a turtle, the criminal scientist was quickly cross-referencing 'Zootopia' and 'explosions' on his computer system. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he began to speedily read the information on his main computer screen. "While I know better than to trust the media, I just want to point out that their sources are saying it was a gas leak." Which, thanks to personal experience, he knew was complete nonsense. Gas leaks, while indeed explosive, didn't do the type of controlled damage that the images were showing. Only explosive specially-set could do that.

" _Chief Bogo came looking for me_ ," the vixen stated in a firm tone. " _It turns out the Zootopia police cruisers and other vehicles are fitted with tracking technology. He followed the signal from mine all the way out to the Happytown District. He had been hoping to find me safe and sound. He did_... _only to share what the police on the scene discovered in their investigations_..."

Silence reigned for a long while. Just as the bespectacled turtle was about to open his mouth to speak, the Hispanic vulpine continued, " _I looked over the case files_. _The investigation team found incendiary devices and the portions of the triggers that would set them off connected to the door of the condo I was supposed to be staying at_... _triggers which were positioned to go off as soon as someone opened said door. That ended up being the owner of Flamingle Flats: the late Mr. Fleeceman_... _he became roasted sheep_."

Considering that for a moment, the reptile found it difficult to feel such sympathy for a person who gave his friend such a hard time. "Huh... well, I've heard mutton is quite tasty."

" _ **BENTLEY**_!" The canid cop shrieked, completely scandalized by the notion of just what her reptilian friend was suggesting! Even if she missed red meat, she wasn't about to eat the remains of a sentient mammal!

"What?" Bentley asked in an incredulous fashion. Hearing the slight growl of frustration over the line, he sighed. "Okay, okay I admit that was rather _tasteless_ of me," the turtle admitted in an unrepentant fashion. Still, he did take a moment to bite his tongue to keep himself from adding, 'much like your almost-landlord is' for Carm's benefit before switching gears with, "Tell me though: is this really unexpected? In doing the right thing you've been stepping on the toes of the Establishment Elites since you got there. I'm not surprised they're now going to such considerable lengths to get rid of you... foolish on their part as it may be. After all, If you died, I would expect Interpol to do everything within their power to become involved."

" _Tell me about it_ ," Carmelita's voice bitterly sounded out over the line in agreement. " _But no. What I'm calling you about is_... _well, I hate to bother you but after this turn of events_? _I realize I'm going to need some new gear_."

A smile slowly spread across the shelled reptile's face; a mischievous gleam sparkling off the corners of his lenses. "Oh? Do tell, Inspector! What would you like ol' Bentley to supply you with? Some upgrades for your gun, perhaps? Improved batteries to offer a stronger charge? Go on, no need to be shy..." he brought his hands up before him, lacing the fingers together as he cracked them in anticipation. "Please: do tell."

Again, the woman on the other end of the line was silent, trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she spoke up with the inquiry, " _Are you at a computer_?"

Despite knowing such a visual cue would be lost over an auditory medium, the criminal genius raised a speculative eyebrow. "... **Really**?"

Indeed, even the vixen realized the folly of such a question. " _Scratch that, of course you are_!" The woman replied. Even if he couldn't see it, the wheelchair-bound turtle could tell she was using that moment of silence to shake her head. " _Anyway, would you please look up images and assorted information for the vests for the ZPD_?"

Nodding his head, the box turtle chirruped, "Sure! Just let me..." he frowned as he got an hourglass icon on his screen. "Grr... blasted thing, go faster!" He grumbled as he began closing out of some of the windows he had running search programs. "There we go," he murmured as he got numerous new windows opening up with images of officers in uniform. He leaned forward and looked at the designs that came up. "Huh, pretty bog-standard..." the reptile murmured as he looked over the pictures of it. It was basic Kevlar weave with interior metal plating to add further protective measure. Overall, it was _just_ enough to stop small caliber bullets but not much else.

" _Would you be willing to create a few that aren't as conventional_?" The vulpine woman finally asked. " _I mean, they would have to_ _ **look**_ _like as though they're standard-issue equipment but I kind of need something with a bit more protection than just, 'pray someone with a ten-millimeter is dumb enough to aim for the chest'_." She had already gone through such yesterday and she doubted she would be as fortunate again. The lovely Latina knew she wasn't Sly and even his legendary luck eventually hit a brick wall.

"I see, I see," the paraplegic reptile replied as he was already making mental notes. Still, he would prefer to hear it from the woman herself before making suggestions. "What kind of changes are you looking for to make such reality?" He knew the Latina spitfire was more than a tad stubborn when it came to him actually outfitting her gear: the red fox had given him quite an earful during their time jumping when she had learned he was getting her weapon upgrades from ThiefNet so he wanted to make darn sure the policewoman knew it was her idea before he started shelling out serious coinage to supply her.

" _Better interior armor plating for one thing, perhaps a long term battery pack for an actual force-shield generator_..." the Hispanic officer quickly listed off. The way she readily listed such made it obvious such were a couple of aspects she'd been considering before calling him. " _And, while not an imperative_... _if you could,_ _ **maybe**_ _you can have it come with its own WiFi generator_? _I'd really,_ _ **really**_ _appreciate that_."

Bentley raised an eyebrow at the vulpine woman's wish-list. She must have _**really**_ been desperate if she was giving him such leeway from the get-go. "Okay, I can understand those first two aspects. Armor is easy enough but a force-shield?" He drummed his fingers atop the right armrest as the gears of his mind began turning a mile a minute as he calculated the possibility to make such reality. "Hmmm... I _could_ rig something up for small bursts of protection but nothing that could be continuous beyond a minute before needing a recharge." He frowned as he considered the last request. "But why would you need armor that can create its own WiFi signal?" Such seemed rather frivolous and the vixen was anything but!

" _I live out in the otherwise abandoned Happytown District. I barely get a reception as it is by piggybacking off of the wireless utilities coming off the neighboring Rainforest District_ ," the off-duty vulpine policewoman explained. " _Not to mention I figure such would be useful in case of an emergency should someone try and jam the regular radio frequencies if I'm pinned down and in desperate need of assistance_."

The reptilian genius nodded his head. "Understandable," the glasses-adorned criminal replied, remembering how he felt when the gang had been hunting Rajan in the depths of India. By the time he got back to civilization by himself, he was suffering from withdrawals and needed a net fix other than the ThiefNet App on his computer. "Getting back to that force-shield you mentioned... hmm..." he mulled over it a bit more, wishing he had a pencil to chew on. "While I mentioned it would be short bursts, I have to ask: what kind of protection do you desire?"

Silence was the only sound from the other end of the line for the greatest while. Finally, when the vixen spoke again, she quietly asked, " _There are_ _ **different**_ _kinds_?"

The box turtle nodded his head on reflex before explaining, "I assume you don't want a heat dispersal force-field, as I doubt you're facing enemies armed with energy-based weapon, although it _**would**_ be good for dealing with explosives. There are also fields that can stop nearly anything, but they're better suited on a car, boat, plane, or other large defendable position whether mobile or not. Repulsor fields can be magnetically-charged to cause bullets or just about anything to bounce off but to manage the latter is very draining on the battery. Then there are shifting-fields that bend light, making it more difficult for someone to see you."

Although the answer wasn't as quickly forthcoming, the tone of the woman's voice made it obvious she was impressed by what she was being told. " _Are you telling me that I could be invisible like the alien monster in, 'The Predator' movies_?"

Smiling at the awe in her dulcet tone, Bentley replied, "More like the female protagonist in the, 'Goat in the Shell' anime."

"... _Need I remind you this armor needs to look like a standard-issue police vest_?" The Latina firmly emphasized to her friend, knowing **exactly** what he was getting at. " _I do not want nor need a white skin-tight suit_." If she didn't put one on for any of Sly's birthday requests, she sure as heck wasn't going to make it every-day wear!

Smirking, the wheelchair-bound box turtle couldn't help but snark, "Sure thing, Major."

" _ **BENTLEY**_!"

Wincing as the audio reverberated from the feedback, the criminal mastermind nodded his head slowly. "All right, all right..." the bespectacled reptile relented before he became serious once again. "Sadly, I'd say we could only manage one type of force-shield per vest due to the size of the rechargeable batteries I would be using in conjunction their functionality." He frowned a bit as he scanned over more pictures of various officers in uniform. "Frankly, if you were any of the larger species, I could have added two different shields or one long-lasting battery... but with your size? You get one that could run a minute to eighty seconds straight..." he smirked and teasingly added, "Yes, even with your cup-size. There's just not enough material in the vest for me to work with while keeping it looking standards."

The turtle could hear a small growl from the other end of the line. " _Why, oh_ _ **why**_ _do my breasts keep coming up in conversations lately_!?"

"Carm, there are **porn stars** with smaller breasts than yours," the bespectacled turtle told her honestly. _But not as firm as her breasts_ , he thought jokingly. Taking a deep breath, he then continued, "But hey! You should feel proud. If gives you more of an edge when it comes to using your feminine wiles on your adversaries."

Now a much louder growl sounded out over the speakers. " _Oh trust me, they're not as useful as you think_ ," she snapped out bitterly. " _All those so-called, 'feminine wiles' got me was to work Vice for a morning shift. I posed as a prostitute and busted damn-near thirty Johns_!"

The box turtle blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Seriously?" He asked, disbelief evident in his voice. He couldn't believe that the ZPD would waste an asset like Inspector Fox on mere prostitution stings!

...Although now the criminal genius had the desire to see if he could hack Zootopia's traffic cameras to find any video of that: one part his own viewing pleasure, the other part something to show at the next Christmas party. It would make for a good laugh and the Hispanic beauty wouldn't punch him then, not on Christmas!

Yes, the man was betting on the Holidays to save his paraplegic posterior. Not the fact he wore glasses or that he was confined to a wheelchair. She'd shot at him plenty of times with her Shock Pistol as he was before he had gotten this point. Hopefully around the most wonderful time of the year, she'd see him as being lame as Tiny Tim and let the Christmas Spirit into her heart and not release her fist into his face.

" _Yes, that was_... _argh_ ," she snarled out in aggravation. " _I know it's typical of local cops to do that but_... _UGH_!" It was obvious doing such left the vixen feeling used.

Bentley nodded his head, feeling bad for his lone female friend. "Carmelita, you sound like you're at wit's end and it's barely been a _**week**_. Would it help if Murray and I came to offer you some personal assistance?" He curiously queried... an almost hopeful tone to his voice. "If things really are getting that dangerous over there, then you will need someone you can trust to watch your back!" As he said that, a small smile came to his face. In the back of his mind, he could hear Sly's voice chirrup, 'And what a back at that'!

" _Not right now_ ," the woman told him, although the barest tone of relief the reptile could hear creeping into her voice let him know she appreciated his offer. " _However, there is_ _ **something**_ _you can do for me from where you're at_."

The semi-aquatic reptile raised an eyebrow at that. "Hmm? And just what would that me, Inspector Fox?" He asked sweetly, half-expecting her to say, 'work on those armored vests'.

Instead, the Hispanic vulpine was quick to request, " _Do some research into Zootopia's City Council for me. Call it a hunch, but I have this feeling that they've got under the table deals going on with unsavory connections_."

Again, Bentley nodded his head in response, despite knowing the woman couldn't see the verbal affirmation. "Of course I can!" He chimed proudly. "Heck, I should be able to find something in earnest three or four days from now if not sooner."

The line was silent for a moment. "... _Three days at best_?" The vulpine woman asked, disbelief plain as day in her voice. " _But you were able to uncover Zootopia's dirty little secrets for me in_ _ **hours**_! _What makes this any different_?"

Bringing his hand up to the bridge of his glasses to push them fully back into place, the shelled reptile explained, "Well, that's because I was solely focusing on delving into the deep net for my information at the time. Now? I'll also be designing and working on new vests for you in tandem to get them ready ASAP as well. I don't want you going without proper protection any longer than you have to!"

"... _I do have a Shock Pistol, you know_..." the policewoman drawled out, reminding the man that she wasn't unarmed.

The reptile resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell the woman was getting stubborn again and he had to handle this carefully. "While that's very good and all," he began diplomatically, conceding the fact that yes, Shock Pistols did have their place. "You should realize that if the people who want you dead get desperate, there are plenty of hit-mammals and assassins who could take you out from a distance."

Carmelita went pretty quiet at the truth bomb her friend dropped on her. "... _I'll be staying low tomorrow. Do try and get me some form of protection and the information as soon as you can. And focus on the repellant shielding for the vests, please_... _maybe ONE with that light-bending array you were talking about. It might be useful just to have on paw in case of an emergency_." She had come to accept she couldn't have multi-functioning protective vests but that didn't mean the canid cop had to settle for just the one shielding format.

Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the turtle merrily replied, "Can do! You just give me some time and I'll have you hooked up with something dependable faster than you can say something in Spanish."

"... _Sí_..." she said pointedly.

The turtle twitched. "... **Wiseass**..." he murmured in annoyance. Still, he found himself smiling as he caught the sound of the Latina's melodious giggle on the line.

" _Gracias, Bentley_ ," the woman on the other end of the line said gratefully. " _I truly appreciate this_."

The turtle gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "What are friends for?" He asked with a smile as his eyes darted over to the clock in the bottom-right corner of his primary computer screen. "Now you take care of yourself, all right? If I'm not mistaken, it should be close dinner time if not bedtime for you."

" _Yeah, I should get something to eat_ ," the woman admitted. " _You take care of yourself too, Bentley. And thank you again_." 

As the Inspector hung up on her end of the line Bentley brought his left hand to the console on his wheelchair's armrest once more. Shutting off the line completely, the paraplegic genius keyed in another sequence, causing a mechanical limb to rise up from within the backrest of his mobile transport. Within the mechanical mitt of the prosthetic arm was a green binocular-like device. Pulling it free from the grasp of his wheelchair's automated appendage, the shelled reptile brought it to his face and looked through it; fingers working the two dials on either side as he set it to a certain signal.

"Hello, Murray? We need to talk..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"For the record," the leonine mayor of Zootopia stated as he stood before his desk with his arms raised; his blue jacket folded in half as it hung over the backrest of his leather chair. "This is a terrible, and I mean _**terrible**_ idea, Miss Bellweather." The fact that he had managed to get her name right spoke volumes of how nervous he was as she strapped a pair of black plastic-coated cords down onto his silk shirt with some duct tape. "And can you hurry this up? The City Council called for an emergency meeting over an hour ago! I don't know how much longer I can reasonably stay away from the meeting room before they send someone! If they catch you adorning me with a wire, we're in deep shit!"

The petite lamb rolled her eyes. _Been there, done that_ , she thought with annoyance as she considered that, for a lion, he sure was a scaredy-cat. "Oh, get a grip, Mayor Lionheart," the sheep said as she continued to wrap the lengthy pair of wires around him, continuing to follow the path with a roll of silver duct tape as she did. "Whatever the Council doesn't know, won't hurt us!" She stated firmly. "With Inspector Fox dead, we need to find out what part they played. What we're doing now may be illegal in Zootopia but I believe Interpol would exonerate us for such a small thing in return for giving them evidence that the Council plotted her murder!"

Sighing, the larger predator nodded his head. "I know but this feels so... so..."

"If we get them all arrested and pulled from their positions of power, you become the primary if not solitary authority of Zootopia," Dawn was quick to remind him.

The grin that spit across the lion's muzzle threatened to split his face in too. "...So very right!" He chirruped, his wide grin showing off his pearly white teeth. "No more being the low-mammal on the totem pole! All we need to do is get the evidence together that a conspiracy to commit murder was involved and POW! I can finally guide this city as it deserves to be!"

A small chuckle escaping her throat, Dawn couldn't help but shake her head good-naturedly. He was just **so** easy to manipulate sometimes. No different than getting a child to behave by promising a treat. _Except when his anger's boiling over_ , she thought with annoyance. When Lionheart was angry, he truly was the dominant mammal of the pair. _Damn specist biology, making me weak and timid as soon as he starts roaring his fool head off!_

Still, it **was** nice that she could direct him where he needed to go and when push came to shove. As much as he annoyed her, she knew he could be trusted.

Well... about as much as any prey mammal could expect to trust a predator at least.

"Almost done, Sir," she chirruped excitedly, a smile on her face as she put on the finishing touches to fasten the wire on him properly. She could only imagine just what the City Council would let slip when they were within their private board room of City Hall.

Nodding his head, the lion watched as the sheep continued to work, setting him up with a wire. When she had finished as much as she could on her own, the mane-adorned feline reached over for his jacket and put it on again, sliding his arms in through the sleeves. He didn't close his blue coat right away as instead, he grasped the battery-operated transponder and stuffed it into one of his interior pockets. Pulling the flap flush over his abdomen, Leodore then began to button it closed... only to frown as he now had a specific box-shape protruding from his right side. "Um..." he trailed off, wondering what he could do to hide this.

"Of for the love of..." shaking her head, the sheep walked over to one of the chairs meant for visiting guests and grabbed her purse. Opening it, she took out both a pack of cigarettes and one of chewing gum before quickly clopping her way back towards the much larger predator and stuffing the front pocket on the other side with them. "There. Now if anyone asks, just share."

Looking down at himself to see that yes, both protrusions were similar, the lion raised his head and nodded to her. "Thank you, Miss Smellweather," he said with genuine gratitude... even if he still butchered her name.

Rolling her eyes, the lamb let off a long-suffering sigh. "Bellweather," she corrected.

"That's what I said!" He protested as he straightened his clothing. "Well, wish me luck. I'm off to face the horde," the feline bureaucrat proclaimed in a theatric fashion... as if by exaggerating the danger he could puff-up how great he was for doing this.

Nodding her head, the petite wool-covered woman happily replied, "Just remember! If you don't come back, I get your comfy chair!"

And the bravado the Mayor had been building up for himself deflated with that comment. Giving the small herbivore a flat look as she smirked up at him, the mane-adorned politician queried, "And why would you get my comfy chair?"

The Assistant Mayor smiled as she made her way behind the desk to climb up into it so she could work the equipment. "Well, if you're dead you won't need it, right?" She replied jokingly as she winked at him.

Leodore merely raised an eyebrow, wondering just how much of that was a, 'joke'. "I have you know that it is listed in my last will and testament that the chair gets buried with me."

Pausing in getting her headset on, the response made the Mayor's petite personal assistant blink her eyes once, twice. "...Seriously?"

Nodding his head, the leonine politician replied, "It's a really good chair. But you can use it while you're working the other end of this in the meantime." As the man said that, he looked over to the old transistor radio that she had carried up from her office and placed atop his desk. "By the way... you are certain that thing still works, _right_?"

The fact the attached recorder was the _**tape**_ kind didn't do much to ease his worries.

"There should be no problems. Analog technology had its issues but it's still useful," she said in all seriousness. "And I have a feeling the Police Chief and Interpol will accept something that is more difficult to fake than digitized technology. We can even let the authorities borrow this whole set-up if they need it. Otherwise? I'm sure they still have the right equipment for stuff like this somewhere."

Oh, if only Bellweather knew that back in at Inspector Fox's office, settled in the Paris branch of the Interpol HQ, there was a working VHS player.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself for the upcoming infiltration, the lion nodded his head in resignation. Waiting a moment for the lamb to get her headset on and the machine running, he tapped on the lump in his jacket with his right paw. When the petite herbivore nodded her head and gave him the thumbs up, he let out a sigh of relief. "Wish me luck." With that, the Mayor of Zootopia went straight for the office door and turned upon exiting. He stood tall and poised, trying to appear as calm and collected as one could, despite how nervous he felt deep down. He had faith in talking his way out of things if they gave him trouble but he couldn't be certain.

Double talk was the craft of a politician–and Leodore considered himself among the best at it–but the City Council were _all_ politicians in one way or another.

However, as soon as he came upon the doors to the meeting room and swung them inward, the mane-adorned mammal found that his tardiness somehow _wasn't_ the main focus... **at all**. The opulently-decorated lavish board room already filled with his fellow council members was instead abuzz with the bankers and bureaucrats tearing into one another like a pack of predators at an all-you-can-eat bug buffet... so much so, it was at the point where they didn't even notice him enter! So while he was the last one to arrive once more, the lion found that unlike the last time, things were already in full swing.

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, YOU SPECIST _**NAG**_!?" The Arctic Hare snarled as he jumped onto the table; right paw raised to point an accusatory finger at the equine across the table.

The mare in a blue blazer gasped in shock, her jaw dropping and eyes wide as she appeared scandalized. "How... HOW DARE YOU CALL ME THE 'N' WORD!?"

His eyebrows furrowed in rage, the lapin banker snapped back, "YOU SAID I WAS _CUTE_ **AND** CALLED ME A _DUMB BUNNY_! WHAT DID YOU EXPECT, **GLUE-STICK**!?"

Leaning forward in his seat, the Head of Zootopia's Conservative Party turned his head to look at the two squabbling council member! "Calm down at once, both of you!" Jumbo loans spoke up sternly, ignoring how both glared at him. "Calling each other names will accomplish **nothing**."

Her upper lip curling back as she let off an angry huff, the equine Liberal glared at the much older herbivore. "Why am I not surprised someone of _your_ position is taking the dumb bunny's side!?" Harshwinny snapped angrily.

The tusked herbivore had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "It's not that at all, Monica." The elephant shook his head in annoyance. "As amusing as it is to see you two insult each other, we have other things to take care of he—" He stopped suddenly as he caught sight of the lion standing at the open entrance. "Ah, Mayor Lionheart!" He greeted with relief, thankful for the timely interruption. "So good of you to finally join us."

Noticing all the eyes turn to him, the leonine politician bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything immediately. Breathing deeply through his nose to puff himself up a bit, the predator politician closed the door behind him before explaining, "My sincerest apologies, Councilman Loans. I spilled some coffee on my jacket and had to get it cleaned. I wanted to be presentable for the city council, you understand."

Jumbo nodded his head in understanding; it was **always** a pain to clean coffee stains out of clothing if it wasn't taken care of right away. "Quite," the older elephant replied before he reclined back into his seat once more. "Fortunately, you haven't missed much of anything Mayor Lionheart. We've—"

"Been watching Ms. Harshwhinny and Mr. Velveteen bite one another's heads off as if they were a troublesome filly and kit," Mr. Hornaday interrupted as he put his cell phone down atop the table to his left, the elderly cervidae's stare firmly glaring at the elephant for attempting to cut him short. _He_ was the President of the City Council and so _he_ would be the one to take charge of things. "And for the record: I don't care if you spill a whole damned coffee cart on your clothes, Lionheart! If I say I need you here now, then I mean _right this very_ _ **moment**_!" The African antelope snapped angrily at the leonine politician. "We are in a crisis situation and you waste our time with your primping and preening!?"

"Sorry President Hornaday! It won't happen again!" The predator stated as he quickly made his way into the room and took his seat to the right of the horned council head. "So... I take it this is about the phone call I received earlier this evening? Inspector Fox is..." he trailed off, hoping to get someone to admit to the crime.

The greater kudu snorted angrily. "Well, it sure _seems_ that way!" He shifted his gaze to the seat just past the lion. "And it would also appear that our fellow council-mammal Velveteen was stupid enough to have a paw in it!" Oh, how he wanted to add, 'proving rabbits are indeed dumb bunnies' but held his tongue. After all, one only divided and conquered those beneath them, not their fellow conspirators. How else would they keep control of the dimwitted masses?

The Arctic hare however, remained contrite about the whole ordeal. "THE PRED BITCH HAD IT COMING! THAT DAMN YIFFER MADE A MOCKERY OF MY FAMILY AND MY GOOD NAME!" The white-pelted lapin bellowed at the top of his lungs, the audibility and show of aggressiveness made him seem more like a predator than the lion who he normally sat next to at these meetings.

The female mustang in blue blazer let off a derivative snort. "And that would be the fault of the police for not giving us latitude," Ms. Harshwhinny interjected as she glared at the feline sitting across the table from her. "And I believe that the ZPD falls under _your_ jurisdiction, Mr. Mayor... does it not?" She queried, purposely putting him on the spot.

Raising his right paw to the front of his muzzle in an effort to hide his uneasiness, the feline made a show of coughing into his fist. "Ah~hem," Lionheart cleared his throat, even as all eyes turned to him. "I am deeply sorry about that," he told the equine woman. "As it stands, yes, the police are indeed under my jurisdiction. Sadly, the reports that made their way across my desk showed there was no possibility of spinning this... let's say, 'unfortunate circumstance'," he said for Edward's benefit. "Combined with the fact that the, as Councilman Velveteen put it, 'damn Yiffer' has been rising in popularity with the city populace because of these high profile arrests? There just wasn't much I could do without proving there is a conflict of interest! Had she been a rogue cop or someone that had gotten numerous complaints from the citizens, I could have taken care of any issues you had with her no problem!"

As incriminating as it sounded on his part, he had to play along to get them to say more! The Mayor of Zootopia just hoped that the council would be accepting of his excuse to not get further involved and wind up making himself a target along the way.

Fortunately, it seemed that they would when the Council President was the first to respond. "Yes, we know... politics slice both ways." Hornaday shook his head as he sighed in disgust. "A year. We had been building up those two nitwits for a year so we could use their arrest for our, 'October Surprise'... and she went and booked them both on her first altercations with either of them!" He slapped his right and down on the table, hooved digits leaving indentations in the top-wood, making the others gathered flinch in reaction. "So yes, I freely admit I was rather peeved at her myself and that we were discussing ways of dealing with the damn pelt on the down-low." He began to grit and gnashed his teeth. "BUT YOU ON THE OTHER HOOF!?" He raised the hand he had slammed down and pointed a solitary digit at the rabbit in an accusatory manner. "YOU HAD TO MAKE A GOUDA-DAMNED PUBLIC SPECTACLE OF IT!"

His arms crossed over his chest, the lapin spoke in a quieter tone but remained just as firm. "The Yiffer bitch had it coming," Edward told the council head in a petulant tone. "You have to understand, President Hornaday! She arrested my middle child. I had great plans to get him into politics while I had Edmond working the financial side of the family business. Yes, I have another son but he's **five-years-old**! He won't be ready to be groomed politically for another decade at the very least when on the other paw I was finally ready with Edwin!" He stamped his right foot on the table, causing the contents of the members' cups–whether they be coffee or tea–to shimmer and wave about if not actually spill over a little. "All that time, all that investment into my son's future... and now his reputation is **RUINED**! He has a _**criminal record**_!"

"And you thought blowing her to Kingdom Come won't get you one? That it won't get us all involved as well!?" The greater kudu snapped angrily, causing his white beard to sway to and fro wildly from his jaw snapped rapidly. "Good Gouda, man! That stunt you pulled could bring the police right to all our doorsteps!"

Realizing that the council really should cover their own behinds, the porcine individual of the group spoke up. "By all means, perhaps it would be best for us to just turn Mr. Velveteen over to the ZPD as a sign of good faith towards the people of Zootopia," Mr. O'Hoggish suggested sincerely, much to the shock of everyone gathered. As the others stared at him, he explained, "It's simple economics! When you have a toxic asset, it's best to cut it free and suffer a little fallout now rather than keep it and deal with much worse backlash later."

The Council President looked just past the now horrified rabbit and to the pig closer to the other end of the table. "Oh yes, a _wonderful idea_ , O'Hoggish!" The horned herbivore snapped out sarcastically. "And then we can sit back and wait for the police to cut a deal with the now-free-agent rabbit! Give him the chance to lessen his sentence or even exonerate him and his son of their crimes! Let them go into witness protection in return for bringing the rest of us down!" He stood up, the quick action pushing his chair back as he looked left and right, gazing at everyone gathered around the table. "I told you all this once before and it seems I need to remind you again! We sink or swim **together**! We're all in deep at this point; the lesser animals wouldn't understand the numerous sacrifices _we_ make for _their_ benefit!"

Although he said nothing in response, Leodore was more than a little insulted. The City Council were more than willing to threaten to give him the shaft if things on his end of the power structure got out of his control with Officer Fox, yet they were willing to give this little crazy rabbit a lifeline despite his obvious psychotic tendencies!?

Ronald couldn't help but snorted. "And _you_ seem to forget something important yourself Council President," the porcine banker replied and stood up as well; the armrests of his chair kept the seat stuck to his rather wide rear before it finally fell free from his oversized porcine posterior due to gravity. "It's the weak link that breaks the chain of command! Even if we kept him on, the ZPD could still make arrests with enough evidence and he could still go turncoat on us to save his own worthless fluffy hide! At least by turning him in ourselves, _**WE**_ look better in the eyes of the public and can claim plausible deniability later!"

Seeing that tempers beginning to flare once more, the petite mustelidae in pink attire began to diffuse the situation with her motherly touch. "Now, now, calm down. Everyone just calm down... you should realize we could be sunk either way." Mrs. Beaver then looked pointedly at the Arctic hare. "That being said, both Councilman O'Hoggish and President Hornaday have good points. So, Mr. Velveteen, can you give us a good reason to both keep you on and cover up this little... shall we say, _little indiscretion_ of yours?" She furrowed her eyebrows as he opened his mouth. "And don't think that you could hide from us if you went into witness protection either. There wouldn't be a single corner of the globe you could run to where we wouldn't find you." She then smiled sweetly as she reminded him, "It would take time for our names to lose clout and we still have **many** favors to cash in return for information on you and your family."

The rabbit trembled with barely restrained rage at the thinly veiled threat to his wife and children. "And need I remind you that the Snow Bank is the sole legitimate financial institution in all of the Tundratown District? And **don't** any of you bring up that _Zootenial_ racketeering crap the Russians preds are trying to pull either! My investment agents don't go breaking good prey mammals' legs if there's a late payment!" Left unsaid was they also broke predator's legs if they fell behind but being carnivores, the lapin felt they deserved it.

Nodding his head, the elderly African antelope replied, "Of course not." He then settled himself back into his chair before adding, "You'll merely compound the interest... and once it's too much for them, you and your firm will take everything they own as collateral." He smirked. "Whether legally above board or not, you're still just as much of a racketeer... like everyone else here, with the exceptions of Mayor Lionheart and Councilman Punjob."

"Hey, I'm okay with that!" The camel sitting at the end of the table opposite Hornaday called out, speaking up for the first time since the meeting had started. "In this case, I'm more than _**glad**_ to be an exception!" He grinned wider as he otherwise kept silent. After all, if things **did** end up go South, he could always make a plea to his family's partners in OPEC to give him a hoof with things.

The rabbit snorted. "Needless to say, without me, a lot of things will go wrong when it comes to the flow of money in the Tundratown District. My family and I are the thin line that keeps that section of Zootopia civilized! Without us Velveteens, the criminals like Mr. Big or Mr. Cold will take over!" He clenched his tiny paws into fists. "That is part of **WHY** I am so upset! With a dirtied name and reputation, these small-minded people might start going to these criminals instead, allowing them the clout they need to take control!"

Considering that for a moment, the greater kudu finally relented and nodded his head. "You do have a point," Hornaday replied before he brought his hooved hand up and rubbed his eyes for a moment. "Ladies and gentlemammals, while I admit this is troublesome, I feel the need to be said that even though this will set our plans back, there are other avenues we can use."

The long-eared prey mammal snorted. "Yeah...especially with that blasted Yiffer out of the way," the rabbit replied bitterly. _At least I took vengeance for my humiliation_ , he thought with unabashed pride. It made him feel like a **big** mammal for once, despite how much his choice annoyed the other members.

The female mustang glared at the hare across the table from her. "While I'm not a fan of preds either, even I must admit I find your blatant specism is becoming irritating, Edward," Harshwinny spat at him in annoyance. She then rolled her eyes at the looks she got from the others. "What? Even if she was a worthless predator, Officer Fox was a female minority and I find his constant bashing to be an annoyance."

The Arctic hare grit his buck teeth. "Oh gee, standing up for women again? I shouldn't be surprised you'd be so hypocritical since you had **no** problem whatsoever calling me a, 'dumb bunny' you stupid Na—"

" **ENOUGH**!" Hornaday yelled, slamming his hands on the table once more, causing the present cups to rattle a second time that day. "If either of you start this shit up again, I'm going to have you _both_ escorted out of here by security! Do you understand!?"

Both the Liberal equine and the Conservative lapin stared at the president of the city council for a moment before calming themselves down. Monica chose to cross her arms over her chest as she leaned back into her chair while Edward turned about and jumped back down onto his own swivel-base recliner before settling himself down onto his specially sized raised seat cushion.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Hornaday nodded his head in satisfaction. "Good. Now that these useless tantrums are out of the way, we can get things back on track. We're still waiting for the ZPD to confirm the body as Inspector Fox's but we all know it was set to go off as soon as the condo door was opened. So unless the pelt gave anyone an extra key, she's as good as toasted. This is going to cause a bit of an upset with the populace. She was already making an all-too-overly positive impression with the populace with those high-scale arrests and we need to get their little minds off of this so-called, 'tragedy' and back onto what's important: that they are citizens of Zootopia, the single **greatest** city to ever grace the face of this _miserable_ backwards planet!"

"And what do you think we should do, President Hornaday, Sir?" Lionheart calmly asked, trying to lead the conversation to coerce more evidence... yet being as polite and meek as he could while doing it as to not upset the council head or key him onto the fact that he was fishing for information. _I just hope Smellweather has enough tape on her end of the wire_.

Turning his head to the right to gaze upon the token predator serving as the city's mayor, the antelope explained, "Once Mr. Pig was arrested, I immediately started looking for other avenues to not only gain the awe and adoration of the Zootopia populous but to reaffirm their trust in us. I don't have anything set in stone at the moment but I should have something of substance to announce in a couple of days. Speaking of which..." his eyes gazed over to the right of the leonine subordinate. "Councilman Velveteen!"

The Arctic hare sat up in his seat once more. "Yes?" He queried, sounding the calmest Leodore had heard him be since he first entered this meeting. 

"Do you want to make up for what you did, flying off the handle and getting TUSK to blow the damned pred to Kingdom Come?" Although it was phrased as a question, the commanding tone to the horned herbivore's voice let him know that this was anything _**but**_ a request. "Then I would like for you to loan out your bank for an evening soiree I'm planning... as well as **pay** for the festivities. Can the City Council depend on you for at least _**that much**_?"

The hare mentally grimaced. He knew from the tone that it wasn't a request and that he would lose money out of it... but if it kept him in the good graces of the council? "I'll need to know what day and I'll need time to set things up properly, of course. I just want to warn you, daytime events are almost impossible to pull off. I still need to run my business."

"Hence why what I want isn't for the day but the **evening** ," the greater kudu reiterated. The head of Zootopia's Liberal Party leaned forward in his seat to stare at the lapin whose loyalties lay with the opposite side of the political spectrum. "Your bank is quite spacious... multi-tiered... an absolutely stunning example of Tundratown architecture."

Nodding his head in agreement, the lapin replied, "Well, of course it is. It used to be the site of the Zootopia Preservation Society... before they finally got a space within City Hall proper and moved out of the Tundratown District. My father got it for a steal thanks to his connection with the then city council. What of it?"

A smile slowly spread across the aged herbivore's muzzle, somehow making him appear even more decrepit that he usually did. "Precisely the point I wished to make," he told the smaller prey mammal calmly. "A place like the Snow Bank has history within Zootopia, making it a prime locale for the event I wish to hold. A dinner party and auction for the upper class of society: Zootopia's one-percent and then some. A chance to rub elbows and make new allies."

The feline politician had to resist the urge to fidget; the mane-adorned mammal fighting to keep his anxiousness internalized. "May I ask what is being auctioned?" Mayor Lionheart asked, hoping that more incriminating information would come out.

The greater kudu raised an eyebrow at the predator's obvious interest. "You seem awfully inquisitive, Lionheart..." he trailed off, the fact he dropped the elected mammal's title hinted towards the fact he wasn't please by a pred being uppity like this.

Giving the council president a nervous smile, the leonine bureaucrat then calmly explained, "Well, maybe _I_ would like to buy something, you know? At least something to donate to the famed Zootopia Museum of Natural History in my name..." he trailed off as the antelope smirked at him. "...What?"

Shaking his head, the horned herbivore scoffed at the lion's suggestion. "Please! I doubt _you_ of all mammals could afford anything without a kickback, Leodore." He chuckled at his own joke for a moment. "But if you _**must**_ know, I am currently making inquiries to numerous international vendors to sell some... shall we say, _unique articles_. Relics and artifacts of historical significance... that we can then turn around and donate to the city, appearing altruistic while getting a hefty tax break atop of getting a portion of all final sales afterwards."

That explanation made Mr. Loans blink his eyes in shock. "Excuse me... but did you just say we would get a portion of the sales as well?" The elderly elephant's trunk moved to grasp the side of his glasses frame, readjusting his spectacles where they were settled on the base of his trunk. "That doesn't make any sense."

Turning to look at his old political rival, Hornaday gave the tusked man a knowing grin but didn't go into specifics. "Let's just say the mammals I found that are willing to sell pieces of history... do so because aren't normally able to go to more upscale venues to sell their wares... for various reasons, of course. So we give them the not only the chance to appear legitimate but the opportunity to unload their wares and they will give us a cut of the final profits in return."

Although it had been unsaid, the others gathered got the implications of what the president of the city council was saying: these were black market contacts. "What day were you expecting to set this up?" Velveteen asked, the rabbit hoping it would be for a later date rather than sooner. He knew with what happened to his family, numerous sets of eyes would be on them for a while.

Taking a deep breath, the head mammal replied, "I will let you know when I am closer to making my plans reality. I need to find out who is available to attend, when they can, and what they plan to offer. But you can bet this won't happen until two or three weeks at the earliest."

The hare grunted but otherwise nodded his head in acceptance. That was still sooner than he would have preferred but at least it wasn't next week. "That's acceptable," the lapin banker replied cautiously as he looked around the table at everyone. "And I take it since the banks have the big bucks, you'll want us to be the heavy buyers for the big ticket items?"

"I said you would be getting a tax break on it. And with your share of the proceeds, you can see it as receiving an immediate partial refund. What more do you want?" The greater kudu asked in annoyance. "We're in this together, Edward and you personally have **a lot** to make up for. Dare I say, as it stands you're in hotter water than Lionheart is for having brought that damned Fox to our fair city in the first place!"

The mayor gulped nervously at that comment. He didn't like the sound of that. Still, he kept his mouth shut. The amount of stuff the council members were admitting here was rather impressive. Apparently they truly believed they were untouchable here in the board room...

His ears drooping down to drape across his back, the Arctic hare growled. "Fine. Whatever it takes to get you people to look past my... indiscretion, I'll do it." His eyebrows then furrowed as he told them, "But once I do, don't you all act like you can hold this over my head for the rest of my life! It's not like anyone here hasn't made mistakes!"

"Of course not, dear," Mr. Beaver cooed sweetly... almost patronizingly. "We'll just remind you of it if you ever start to act out of line, that's all." She kept up her smile as she heard her fellow smaller Liberal mammal, Mr. Chipper chuckle at the Conservative's expensive. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Built during 1867 in Paris' Southern suburb of Montparnasse, there stood the La Santé Prison, a veritable fortress to hold those who broke French law. As decades and even a century went on, France tried to hide this aspect of its law enforcement from the masses by pointedly erecting high-rise buildings around it, changing to skyline to better camouflage this bitter truth about the City of Lights. Those that knew understood that for all its beautiful culture, France had a literal prison _district_ within the borders in its capital city. Overall, the maximum security prison was said to be an inescapable facility... something that hundreds of prisoners found out the hard way. Understandably, it became one of Europe's most infamous prisons thanks to the convicted housed within both its high security and VIP wings.

The VIP wing in particular was what gave La Santé Prison its notoriety. The maximum security wing was specifically designed to imprison what the correctional facility administration referred to as, 'convicts of personality'. It was a special solitary confinement area where proper precautions could be taken to contain various criminals that were more particular in their capabilities than the general facilities could handle; where specific precautions could be taken. Currently, one entire section of the VIP wing was dedicated solely to its most recent resident: Cyrille Le Paradox.

Once renown the world over as a famed collector of rare objects and purveyor of fine art, in reality it turned out the mustached mephitidae was using his museum as a cover for trafficking black market items, priceless relics and treasures illegally taken from their countries of origin and brought to France where he could fabricate a paper trail for them to create legitimacy to their presence. However, merely having these objects in his ownership wasn't enough to satisfy the skunk's ego as his family had been a clan of Master Thieves... and he wanted the recognition for it. So instead of resting on his laurels, the megalomaniacal mammal used his ill-gotten wealth to purchase the technology of the famed criminal genius–and former equally infamous Black Baron–Penelope Maus to construct an aerial fortress that could bend time and space; allowing him to travel through time itself! He had planned to alter history to both create a false royal ancestry to live like a king in the modern era as well as destroy the rival Cooper legacy by neutralizing the thieving family's most prominent ancestors before they could make their mark in history that made them legends.

Ultimately, Le Paradox realized far too late that he had bitten off far more than he could chew and utterly failed at both. Worse still, besides being charged with kidnapping Inspector Fox, he had also been slapped with the charge of murdering an officer of the law as the missing Sly Cooper had been working as a Sargent for Interpol at the time. Needless to say, the mephitidae had all of his assets seized–particularly his extensive art collection–and everything had been donated to the city of Paris. Not that it would have inconvenienced him to have lost everything; the mammal doubted he would live long enough to fulfill his life sentence. All the sinister skunk could do was sit within the minimal Spartan confines his odor-proof cell in the VIP section of the La Santé Prison, wondering where he went wrong.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to get out of here, set things right, and get some sweet vengeance on that damnable Inspector Fox..." he hissed through gritted teeth. He hadn't killed Cooper–although he wished he had–but getting them to believe him had been impossible. Oh yes, if he was going to rot for someone dying, then he wanted to make sure that it was for someone he actually had the pleasure of killing!

Needless to say, the criminal mammal was taken aback when his rhetorical offer actually got a response. " _You might not be able to kill Inspector Fox but I believe you and I could be of use to one another_ ," a voice called out, the tone altered by a hollowed out reverberation.

Such made the skunk bolt forward atop his cot and turn his head to look towards the bulletproof glass door; the barrier long-since covered with a green tint thanks to constant exposure to his natural mephitidae musk. While very opaque, Cyrille could see the form of... well, **something** standing outside his cell. "Well, well... what do we have here?"

The form outside the confined space took a step closer... allowing the convict to make out that it was an animal more on par with his own height but other than that, the former darling of the art world couldn't make out much through the warped visage that stained the door of his cell. " _Someone willing to let you out if you're cooperative, Le Paradox_."

"...I'm listening," the former criminal mastermind replied. Hey, it wasn't like he had anything better to do at that moment.

The shape atop the form bobbed, letting the skunk know the animal nodded their head. " _I know you've lost not only your personal wealth but your collection of antiquities to Interpol's investigation with the latter being confiscated by the city of Paris as part of the usual European socialist bent in politics. However, that doesn't mean you have to suffer here in the darkness of your cell. I_ _ **might**_ _be willing to release you if you have anything else that Interpol might not have been able to get their hands on_."

Getting up from his flimsy bedding, the mephitidae in a bright orange prison jumpsuit turned to face the cell doors. Crossing his arms over his chest, the skunk answered, "...Perhaps I might. Why should I trust you though?"

" _I am someone who can manipulate the system_ ," the unknown animal on the other side of the bulletproof door replied. " _If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here talking in person. You're normally posted a pair of correctional officers to guard your cell twenty-four/seven_."

That caught Cyrille by surprise. True. He had gotten so used to the silence as neither officer would talk to him when posted on guard duty that, at times, he forgot they were actually there. Part of the whole, 'solitary confinement' issue meant to ebb away at his soul. "So... it's **just** you and me right now?"

Again, there was the motion of the figure that could be construed as someone bobbing their head in a nod. " _Correct_ ," the voice replied.

The former art gallery fancier brought a hand up to rub his chin in thought. "Interesting..." the black and white mammal murmured with a tone of voice that was piqued with intrigue. Someone with this level of connections was usually someone very high up in the government or had enough favors that they could do whatever they wanted. "And what makes you think the authorities haven't taken everything of mine already?"

" _I've looked over the various police reports of Inspector Fox concerning your murder of Sargent Cooper_ ," the distorted voice replied. " _She mentioned in one of her reports that_ _ **time travel**_ _of all things was involved. Let's be honest, such a thing is a flight of fancy and I doubt she actually did_... _however I_ _ **wouldn't**_ _have put it past you to have drugged her in some way or another_."

Rolling his eyes, Cyrille snorted in annoyance but otherwise held his tongue. Damn all these small-minded fools! Unable to bring themselves to accept that there could be things beyond that of animal imagination. "Still," he began softly. "Be that as it may, it still doesn't answer my question." His eyebrow furrowed. "I ask again: what makes you so sure the authorities haven't taken everything of worth already?"

The form obscured by the door stood there silently for a moment. " _The Inspector's reports mentioned something along the lines of, 'counterfeit cave art'_ ," the animal said in all seriousness. " _Of all the relics confiscated as evidence and were reassigned to the city, there was nothing older than three-thousand B.C. in the lot. We found no, 'cave art' whatsoever_."

Although he knew the other mammal wouldn't see it, a small smile twitched at the right corner of Le Paradox's muzzle. "Ah yes... I knew I was forgetting _something_. I never got to recover that stash to bring to my museum." He uncrossed his arms and tapped his fingertips together, feeling confident that he could get the upper-hand now that he had a real bargaining chip. "Although why would I ever tell you where it is?"

Although he couldn't make out details through the tainted visibility of his prison cell door, the skunk could tell the form of his visitor shifted to that of a more agitated stance. " _And being released is not enough_?" The figure demanded to know.

"Well, let's be honest," the mustached mephite began in a rather nonchalant manner. "What's to actually stop you from putting me back in here after you get those paintings?"

" _Because what I need those relics for, your presence would aid in their legitimacy_ ," the voice replied.

Now the skunk clad in an orange prison jumpsuit raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh?" He chirruped as he brought his right hand up to the side of his muzzle, slowly preening his mustache. "Is that so? And just how would my presence add legitimacy to the art?"

There was an audible puff of air, revealing the animal on the outside was wearing a gas mask as he changed tanks–it certainly explained why the voice was muffled and reverberating all this time. " _While you are criminal, you were known to get authentic artifacts no matter the consequences. You were willing to break the laws to attain whatever you desired and you got it. If the buyers see that you're involved, then there will be no questions asked and we'll both stand to make a considerable amount of coin_ ," the animal outside of the cell explained.

Cyrille immediately perked up. "Buyers? What buyers?"

The animal obscured by the green-tinted barrier chuckled. "Why, these would be the upper-crust elite of Zootopia."

The black and white-furred mammal blinked his eyes as and he ran the name of the city over in the back of his head a few times. "Zootopia, you say... isn't that the city-state that's all, 'goody-goody' and preachy about being tolerant to one another or something?"

" _On the surface, yes_..." the obscured animal admitted. " _And someone in their hierarchy is currently reaching out on ThiefNet to anyone willing to provide them_ _ **inventory**_ _for a special closed auction among the jet-setters_... _in return for a ten-percent cut of the profits, it gives black marketeers a venue to finally unload hot merchandise they've been holding onto up to now. The perfect place to get paid to unload a lot of cave art, wouldn't you say_?"

The skunk couldn't help but smirk. "Cave art from ten-thousand B.C. to be precise."

" **AH**!" The voice chimed out, sounding positively delighted. " _So you_ _ **do**_ _have artifacts that Interpol managed to miss_."

The mephitidae barked out a laugh. "Yes, but only because I didn't have the chance to dig it up from the Antarctic ice!" He replied. Oh yes, the stuff was counterfeit, but only in the fact he had that idiot, 'The Grizz' create it back in the day. Carbon-dating would prove it was all authentic in both the materials used and the time it was created. Le Paradox merely had the thug artist bury it where he could find it easily enough in present day.

The figure outside the prison cell mulled over that for a moment. " _That far South, huh_? _That would be a good place to hide it. Even the most dedicated among Interpol wouldn't go down there to find it if they didn't know the exact location_."

"While I, on the other paw, do," Le Paradox cooed, an utterly devious expression gracing his features. "So if you don't mind taking a trip to the South Pole with me... and supplying some excavation equipment..." he added as an afterthought. "We might be able to pawn those ice age artifacts off to some rich, over-privileged snobs at Zootopia... and you said they get a ten-percent cut. What about us?"

" _We split the remaining ninety percent, fifty-fifty_ ," the mammal adorned in a gas mask replied.

Bringing his right hand to his chin, the mephitidae scratched it in thought. "Huh... so I'' be left with a forty-five percent cut." While it wasn't bad, he certainly could do better. "However, you do realize this is all I have left, right? If I'm going to sell my goods to the highest bidder then I'm going to need the biggest bang for my buck to start over. I want at least the full fifty-percent of the sale and you can have the forty-percent leftover from the Zootopia bigwigs and I."

"... _We split what's left fifty-fifty_ ," the mammal on the other side of the filthy door repeated with a steely edge to the reverberating voice. " _You said it yourself. I'm going to have to have to pay to get us down to Antarctic as well supply the equipment to uncover your treasures as well as find us some willing muscle to aid us. I will be the one handling the majority of the workload so find receiving an equal share to be reasonable_." The unknown animal then snorted. " _Besides, without me you would have no chance of escaping, let alone even know about the auction_."

The musky mammal's muzzle pulled back in a frown. That much was certainly true, and he didn't want to blow this shot at freedom. "Still... there is **one** concession from you that I want."

" _And that is_?"

"I haven't had a slice of limburger cheese in **forever**!" The skunk wailed. "We've at least got to stop to get some before we head off to the Godforsaken Antarctic!"

The unseen form on the side of the glass opposite the criminal shuddered, as if trying to suppress a chuckle. " _Fine. Easy enough_."

Cyrille's grin was wide enough that he put fictional psychotic hyena clowns that harassed equally fictitious vengeance-obsessed mask and cape-adorned bats to shame. "Then I'm glad to say that we have a deal."

As he said that, there suddenly came the hiss of hydraulics releasing as the bullet proof door slide forwards off from where it plugged into the wall and away from the skunk before sliding off to the right, allowing much of the old noxious fumes that had filled the room to escape out into the halls of solitary confinement.

Seeing the mammal adorned in a gas-mask standing before his exit to freedom, Le Paradox blinked his eyes in surprise before letting off a laugh. "Ah... I see it is **you**. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

The mammal nodded his head. " _That it has. Now come, we have_ _ **much**_ _work to do_."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Author's Notes** : Holy shnikes. I never thought I would finish this chapter. I apologize for the six month wait but I really made sure to give this my best shot to hopefully make up for it.

I do apologize for the delay. I ended up having to babysit my then four-month-old baby niece for two and a half months after both proud parents used up their paternal leave. It left me with little free time and really threw me off the groove I had writing this story in the first place.

Sure, I tried to get back to it sooner than this, but after dealing with a baby in the new year, I ended up very busy, mostly helping my old man with winter... New England is a terrible place to live during winter.

Basically, I wasn't able to really get back to writing until April, and even then this chapter took two months. I needed to reread the story and my notes again to get back into the 'feel' for this story. I'm hopeful I can get back on track again. I'm still very busy... especially since now is the time to help my older niece with getting her driver's license BUT I can assure you, dear readers, that the next chapter will not take as long at all.

In other news? I've been busy with something good as well. Been making preparations to go to TerrifiCon this August at the Mohegan Sun Casino & Resort. After a long time of work, I plan to enjoy myself. I work hard and play hard.

And finally... I want to give a special thanks to Nanya and Innortal. They helped keep me to task as best I could over the past two months and it's thanks to them that I had the drive and the assistance to get this chapter out before the story officially turned a year old rather than... well, with the rate I was going, probably in September.

I hope this is worth the wait.

Try Everything!


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